Christmas in Metropolis
by Panache
Summary: Lex and Chloe have been corresponding by letter for years, but have never met. When they finally have the opportunity to do so at a LuthorCorp Christmas event, neither seems as excited about it as they should be. Slight A/U; Chlex and Clois.
1. Chapter 1

**Christmas in Metropolis**

Author: Cy Panache  
Rating: PG-13  
Category: Holiday Romance  
Timeline: Alt universe where neither Chloe nor Lois ever moved to Smallville and Lex and Clark have not yet parted ways (other details will be filled in). Chlex and Clois.  
Disclaimer: Someone else's sandbox. I just play here because other people have all the best toys.

Author's Note: For some reason I have a ridiculous enjoyment of the ABC Family movie 'Christmas in Boston'. It's completely ludicrous but I still love it. So anyway, I was watching it online while waiting for my pies to bake the other day and suddenly I was seeing Chlex possibilities. Hence this fic was born. It will loosely follow that movie's plot, but there should be enough originality to keep you interested even if you've seen it. I would however recommend a certain suspension of realism with this. Again this fic was started on the N-S board, and I am posting the completed chapters here. I figured I might as well try to get them in before Christmas.

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"Bill. Bill. Over commercialized holiday card. _Another_ over-comercialized holiday card."

Looking up from her computer, Chloe scowled at her cousin as she tossed each missive on the kitchen table with the accompanying announcement. "Way to engender the Holiday spirit Lois."

"Oh please. This whole magic of Christmas thing is really just a big marketing ploy designed to make you the consumer go broke . . ." Going back to her litany, she tossed another envelope down, "Credit card bill no doubt made heavier by your so-called Christmas spirit . . . Card . . . Oh!"

Chloe's heart sank as she saw what had caused Lois's squeal of joy. A beautifully hand-addressed envelope made of fine cream-colored paper. Holding it up high, out of Chloe's immediate reach, Lois made the final announcement with a triumphant crow, "And our centerpiece . . . the annual holiday love letter from our mysterious, likely fake, Alex."

"You're a grinch. And its not a love letter. How many times do I have to tell you that Alex and I are just friends?" Standing up, Chloe tried to grab the letter, but Lois danced away to the other side of the table.

"Friends who have never met, never talked on the phone, and in the age of email have for the past seven years used a means of communication that basically went out with candlelight. _Please_ these are love letters. And you are digging the whole Jane Austen vibe."

"You're delusional. I think those nicotine patches have finally poisoned your brain." She feinted to the right. Lois moved left, but when Chloe tried to reverse course and cut her off, Lois proved too quick and circled back.

"Really?" She taunted, "We'll see about that."

And before Chloe could stop her, Lois tore into the envelope.

"Lois!"

Still keeping one eye out for any moves Chloe might make, Lois skimmed the letter, then began to read out loud, "Dear Chloe . . . God, he has sexy handwriting."

"Lois!"

"All right, Dear Chloe. I'm writing this after yet another excruciating family (and I use that term loosely) Thanksgiving. It had all the trappings, all the adornments, magazines could have come and photographed it, and yet still I would have given anything to have been with you and your father eating your annual Chinese takeout feast because I know there would have been more love and joy in that room than in any moment I spent around my table. So you'll have to forgive me if this is written too late or I'm a little too inebriated to be coherent, but this was the best way I could think of to spend a holiday which is supposed to be about what we're thankful for . . ."

Chloe had long ago stopped trying to chase her cousin around the table, just letting herself get lost in Alex's letter. Only now she realized, Lois's voice trailed off and when she looked up her cousin was arching one eyebrow at her in triumph. "Tell me again how this isn't a love letter?"

"It's not. There is not one mention of love in there."

"Yes there is!" Lois pointed down to the middle of the letter. "There. Love."

"He's talking about me and my dad!"

"Oh please, your dad could be in Kalamazoo for all he would care! That is about you and him, and I'm betting very interesting ways to eat Chinese."

"You're perverted, you know that?"

"Doesn't mean I'm not right." Chloe just held out her hand for the letter. Apparently sensing that the joke had run as far as she could safely get away with, Lois turned it over, but not without a parting shot, "So when am I ever going to get to meet your Cyrano?"

"Never."

"Really? Never? I thought he worked for LuthorCorp. Surely you're going to run into him eventually."

_God. I hope not._ Chloe thought, but she just shrugged, "Probably not. He works at the division in Star City, and at twenty-one its not like he's high enough up to need to come to Metropolis for business."

"Okay." Lois rolled her eyes. "If that's how you want to conduct your love life . . . on paper."

"Its not my love life. I date!"

"When I fix you up and force you out. You'd rather just stay home with your boxes of love letters."

"Arrgggh!" Chloe groaned, "For the last time, they're not love letters."

And she knew that was true. After all, Alex had written to her about girls he'd dated, had counseled her about her own boyfriend troubles.

Ever since she'd gotten the assignment to trade letters with a student at Excelsior Academy and had found in Alex another soul who actually read books and talked about something other than sports and clothes, the relationship had been one of the highlights of her teenage years. She'd been lucky enough to get a full scholarship to Forsythe, the premiere private school in Metropolis, but it had also meant she'd sometimes felt a little isolated by her inability to afford the most expensive purse or most recent model car. Alex had been her lifeline and by the time she'd graduated he knew her better than anyone.

Still, they were just good friends. And the fact they both appreciated the tangible permanence of pen and ink communication, and finely crafted words, didn't mean they were love letters Alex was writing her.

She added the most recent one to the box she kept under her bed. Ran her fingers along the line of his name.

Except she sometimes kind of wished they were.

----

"Sullivan!"

Chloe jumped a little at the sound of Perry White's booming summons rattling coffee mugs and pen cups on every desk in the basement. Everyone could count the number of times White had shown up personally in the basement on one hand and it was usually accompanied by someone clearing out their desk.

She shot a nervous glance over at Lois who just shrugged and then made a choking face, in return. Rolling her eyes she muttered, "Thanks for the support."

"It's Christmas. He's never fired anyone three weeks before Christmas."

"Yet."

"Go. Be a trailblazer." Lois made little shooing motions with her hands. "If we need alcohol, I'll buy."

"Thanks. I almost mean that."

"Sullivan! I'm not getting any younger!"

Grabbing a pen and pad, she hurried over to answer White's call, thought about her credit card bill and prayed. _Please don't fire me. Please don't fire me._

"Jesus, Sullivan you move any slower and you'll miss the story completely."

"Story?" Her heart started to beat again, then a little faster as the implications of what he was saying sunk in. "You're giving me a story?"

"Don't get too excited. We're not talking breaking news here. But you've been doing a good job with those obituaries and wedding announcements. You've got a personal touch people like.

LuthorCorp's charitable foundation has been holding a massive nationwide charity drive for the holidays, and to boost its image no doubt. Anyway apparently they blew every fund-raising projection out of the water and to celebrate and probably gain more publicity they're holding a celebratory Christmas party with every executive who was involved where they're making the presentations to the charities. It's really just a fluff piece, but you know people eat that kind of holiday cheer crap up. Besides its LuthorCorp so keep your ears open and there might be an angle."

Chloe felt her poor heart stop again. "Did you say every executive who was involved?"

"Yeah apparently Lex Luthor made the call as the head of the foundation." White shook his head. "Never quite sure what to make of that one. Sometimes I swear he's the spitting image of his old man, sometimes he couldn't be more different."

"Every executive? Even the out of town ones?"

"Did I stutter? Metropolis, Star City, Edge City, Gotham, Smallville. Every executive. As I said the drive was a big success."

Yes. It was. She knew because Alex had told her. Alex who had been in charge of the drive for his office. Beautifully far away Alex who would be coming here. To Metropolis. To an event she'd be covering.

She was so screwed.

"Sullivan? Do we have a problem? Do I need to give this to your cousin?"

That jerked her out of her near meltdown. "Wha-? No! No. Absolutely not. I'm on it. Trust me. This will be the best charity-event story you've ever gotten. And if there's an angle . . . I'll find it."

As soon as she went and committed suicide with her pen.

Chloe walked back to her desk in a near daze.

"So?" Lois prompted anxiously.

"I-" she swallowed hard, "I'm not fired. He gave me a story."

A story covering an event Alex would be at. Maybe she could just not mention it. No. No, if he read her byline in the Daily Planet he'd know she'd been there, and then he'd be hurt. No, she had to tell him. She just had to tell him. She opened her email before she could talk herself out of it, and typed in the not often used email address.

"So, no need for alcohol then." Lois continued, blissfully unaware of her cousin's inner turmoil.

"Oh," Chloe murmured despondently, "I think we're still gonna need it."

-----

At the ding from his computer, Lex set down the quarterly projections he'd been looking over, and got up from his chair by the fire to walk over to his desk. He knew people might find it strange that he gave an email that much importance, but then this wasn't any usual email. That ding was for a special account that only one person had the address to, a person who he'd be happy to interrupt any work for.

After all no other person had the power to make his day exponentially better with just a few lines. Anticipating just such a pleasant event he stopped over to refresh his coffee, then sat down at his desk intent on savoring Chloe's correspondence.

Choked on his coffee the moment he opened the email.

She was going to be at the foundation's close out events. Was going to be covering the events. All of them. And ohm by the way, since she knew that, as the leader of the Star City offices efforts, he'd be coming in for the event, maybe they could meet.

Shit.

She wanted to meet him.

No. He corrected himself. Not him. Not Lex Luthor, not the only slightly less ruthless son of the most ruthless businessman Metropolis had ever seen. No she wanted to meet Alex Mason. The anonymous junior executive at LuthorCorp's Star City offices, six years his junior, who had supposedly responded to Chloe's letter as part of an Excelsior Academy class assignment.

Alex Mason. Who didn't exist at all.

Shit.

He should have known this would come back to haunt him. But it had all started out so innocently. He'd been doing three weeks at Excelsior as an alumni educator (part of his penance and start on the track his father demanded). The annual batch of letters from Forsythe had come in, and he'd dutifully distributed them, only the count had been one off due to one of the boys being expelled.

He'd just been trying to keep her from being disappointed, remembered the assignment all too well and how it felt like rejection when no one chose to write you back. Signed it Alex because even at twenty-one 'Lex' had been too distinctive, too recognizable.

He'd never expected her to continue to write back when the assignment was over.

Certainly never expected to get letters that had insight and wit far beyond that of a fifteen year old girl, or to find threads of loneliness and isolation that spoke so acutely to his own soul.

He kept telling himself he was writing her back because he didn't want her to feel more alone or unwanted than she obviously already did. Managed to believe that for almost a year. It was when she interned at the Daily Planet one summer and her letters became fewer and further between, until he couldn't wait to get her response to write her again, that he had to admit this was just as much for him.

By the time he had gone so far to establish a P.O. Box in Star City that got immediate same day service to his mansion in Smallville he knew he was in trouble.

And he also knew he was in too deeply to care.

Seven years later, he was only in deeper.

And now apparently he was about to drown.

_No._ His hand tightened on the coffee mug.

No. That was unacceptable. He could do something about this. He was Lex Luthor and he wasn't about to lose the most important, most real, and most honest relationship he had ever had with a woman . . .

Even if she didn't know it was with him.

Pulling out the small candid photograph he kept tucked in his wallet, he looked down at the beautiful features he'd long ago committed to memory, and picked up the phone.

"Clark, I need a favor."

He knew he was about to test the absolute limits of their tumultuous friendship, but he looked down at the photo again to strengthen his resolve.

Traced one of the long brunette curls that spilled down her shoulders.

Chloe was absolutely worth it.

----

"You did what?!"

Chloe shoved another shot in Lois's direction, and mumbled, "IsentyourpicturetoAlexinsteadofmine."

Lois didn't even pause, just knocked back the shot and motioned for another. "That's what I thought you said. Jesus, Chloe! What were you thinking?"

Oh yeah, she was definitely buying the drinks tonight.

"I was _sixteen_. I wasn't thinking anything. It's just, you know what I looked like in high school."

"Yeah, you looked great."

"But not _you_ great. And he was from Excelsior, and he was expecting what all those other girls at Forsythe looked like, you know statuesque and poised and glamorous. So I went looking for a photo that kind of made me look like that and instead I found the one you sent me from the officers party at Reinhardt. You know the one where you were actually wearing a makeup and a dress and you looked so right. And I guess I just went temporarily insane, because the next thing I knew it was in the mail."

"Six years is not temporary!"

"Well, once I sent him one, I couldn't suddenly lose half a foot and turn blonde, could I?"

"Yeah, except don't you think he's going to figure it out now?"

Chloe was silent for a long time.

Too long.

"Oh. My. God. You're going to stand him up. This paper Romeo who has written you a letter every week for the past seven years, is coming to Metropolis expecting to meet you and you're going to leave him hanging."

"No! No, I would never do that to Alex."

"Well, then I don't see how you're going to prevent this shocking discovery, unless . . ." Lois slowed down as Chloe fixed her with a pleading gaze, then started drunkenly shaking her head back and forth, "No. Oh no. No way. There is no way, I am pretending to be you. You are going to have to find some other patsy missy, because there is nothing you can offer me-"

"Two leads."

"What?"

"The next two real story leads I get, I'll hand them over to you. No reservations. No keeping the good ones for myself."

Lois was suddenly a lot less drunk. "Three leads."

"Two and I'll edit all your articles for a month."

"Make it three months." Lois held out her hand.

Chloe met it. "Deal."

"You do know of course that in one move you are seriously challenging my standing as the family screw up."

"Don't worry I'm sure you'll get it back."

Lois just lifted her beer and murmured the start of the holiday toast they had used since they were children. "Bah Humbug."

Chloe clinked the neck of her bottle against Lois's. "Merry Christmas."

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	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Just a reminder. Most major plot points in this fic belong to ABC Family. Again not mine. I'm just twisting them to suit my nefarious purposes. *evil grin* Also, more details about my fluffy Smallville alternate universe will be revealed as we go, if you've got stuff you like to know about the characters and where they are, call 'em out and I'll try to answer them.

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**Chapter 2**

"Lex, I don't really feel comfortable with this."

Lex sighed. He knew persuading Clark was going to be the hardest part of this. The two of them had always had extremely divergent views on what was and wasn't okay.

There had been a time when those views almost tore their increasingly fragile friendship apart. When they'd been working more against each other than with.

And then had come the turning point in the form of Clark's mentally unbalanced girlfriend Alicia.

What he'd seen Clark do on that road had changed everything.

It was only thanks to Chloe that it had changed for the better.

He'd been furious, angry beyond all measure at the thought that Clark had kept something so integral, so inexorably tangled with everything that had happened in their friendship a secret like this. It felt like all he knew about his life suddenly had to be reexamined.

And he had been hurt that Clark would so distrust him as to keep it a secret, when a girl who had tried to kill him knew.

Felt it made their entire friendship a lie.

If Chloe hadn't sent him an email that day with exciting news about getting into MetU on scholarship, he might have done things so differently. But thankfully she had, and he'd taken it as a sign. Told her what had happened in general terms and waited for her outraged indignation on his behalf.

Instead, her thoughtful response had surprised him.

_I think sometimes the people its hardest to trust are the people we care about, the people whose opinions matter the most. Maybe the real test of friendship is when a friend disappoints us. How we handle finding out they're not everything we want them to be. If there's anything in this friendship that you think is worth it, then give it a second chance, prove he should have trusted you all along._

If it had been anyone else he wouldn't have listened, would have let all the anger and hurt inside him take over, but it had been Chloe and he valued her opinion.

And of course she'd been right. So very, very right.

So here he and Clark were, far better friends than probably either of them would have thought possible three years ago. With Clark he'd been a part of things that made him believe in better, in more. He'd helped Clark save lives, and sometimes even stepped in to fix things Clark's powers couldn't.

Not that everything was hearts and flowers. There were still plenty of times they didn't see eye to eye. Right now being a stellar example.

"Relax, Clark. It's not like I'm asking for your help in taking over the world."

"No, just in lying to someone who's supposed to be your friend."

Lex raised a significant eyebrow.

Clark looked away sheepishly.

Lex suppressed a smile. Now that he knew the reasons, he tried not to call Clark on the inherent hypocrisy in his stance on truth and honesty too often. But that didn't mean he was above doing it when it suited his purposes.

Guilting Clark into this . . . suited his purposes just fine.

The younger man crossed his arms in that way he had when he knew he was on the defensive, and was uncomfortable about it. "I don't even understand why you need me to do this."

"I told you. Chloe is expecting to meet a nice, normal junior executive from Star City." Lex ran a self-deprecating hand over his distinctive scalp. "Call me crazy, but if I show up I think she just might figure it out."

"Yeah, but Lex, will she really care? I mean I've seen you make women throw themselves at you just by loosening your tie."

"Chloe isn't just any woman. Trust me. She'll care."

Clark stared at him for an uncomfortable amount of time, and then to Lex's horror a very familiar smirk started to cross his face. It was _his_ smirk. The 'I know something about you you don't want known' smirk. "You really like her, don't you?"

Lex grimaced at Clark's unusual display of perception. Jonathan Kent was right. He was obviously a horrible influence.

"I've been corresponding with her for several years. The fact I like her is pretty much a given."

"No. I mean you _like_ her."

He rolled his eyes. "We're not twelve, Clark."

"Says the guy who's passing notes in class."

He glared. Clark sobered. "No, Lex, the fact you care about her . . . it's great. Really great. But don't you think its all the more reason to be upfront and honest about everything? Otherwise how are you ever going to have a chance at something real?"

"No."

"Lex . . ."

He ground his teeth at the mixture of concern and chastisement in Clark's tone, felt the muscle in his jaw twitch. "Look, I'm not trying to have something more with Chloe. I like things exactly the way they are. All I want to do is get through this disaster so they can go back to being that way."

"On paper."

He nodded, "On paper."

Clark walked over to stand next to him. Looked like he wanted to put his hand on his shoulder. Lex took a preemptive step away. "You don't really want that, do you?"

"It not about want. It's about feasibility." Lex sighed and sat down on the couch. This was requiring more openness than he was comfortable with, but if that's what it took to get Clark on board, then that's what it took. "You know my track record with women. Chloe is the only one who hasn't either left or betrayed me. And you know why that is? Because she doesn't know I'm me."

"You can't believe that."

"Well, I'm not willing to take the chance. Not with Chloe."

Clark watched him for another uncomfortably long moment and then sat down. Blew out an unhappy breath. "Just so we're clear . . . I think this might be a new low for you."

The pained expression on Clark's face told him he'd won. Lex gave him a wry smile. "Your moral objection has been duly noted."

"Couldn't you have found someone else to do this?"

He shook his head. "Other than the basic statistics, name, age, occupation, everything I've told Chloe is real. Generalized, but real. No one else knows me well enough to even hope to pull this off."

It was the truth, just not all of it, but he thought mentioning he'd sent Chloe Clark's picture when she'd asked for one, might be too much for his friend to take right now.

"Well, I'm not sure I can pull this off. Lex, pretending to be you? I don't even know where to start."

"That's easy, Clark." He clapped a hand on his friend's flannel-clad shoulder. "We start with better clothes."

----

The 'We Wish You a Merry Christmas' ring-tone had seemed so cute when she'd found it online. Now standing in the back of the crowded presentation hall at the Four Corners Park Plaza, frantically digging through her purse while people shot daggers at her with their eyes, it seemed decidely less so. Finally she found it, flipped it open.

"Hello?"

"Okay. So you know what? I've been thinking. And this? This is crazy. And I'm not talking a little crazy. I'm talking full straight-jacket, padded-cell insane. I can't be you. What if he wants to talk about books or opera or something. I drank my way through high-school! With soldiers!"

Oh God. Her cousin was talking a mile a minute and hadn't stopped for a breath yet, the way she always did when she was freaking out. This was not good. This could not be happening right now. Not at her first big assignment. Not with Alex due to arrive any minute. Inching her way to the side of the room, Chloe surreptitiously stepped out onto the balcony, and ducked behind one of the tall, beautifully decorated Christmas trees that had been set up in the corners.

"Lois!" She hissed, "Snap out of it. You can't do this now."

"No. I think now before I attempt to commit massive fraud is the perfect time to do this."

Chloe heard the distinctive click of Lois's lucky zippo. Shit. "Don't you dare light a cigarette!" she snapped, "Alex knows I don't smoke. And besides, you quit."

"Well this is enough to make me start up again." Lois grumbled, but Chloe was relieved when she didn't hear the sucking sound of a cigarette being lit. "Why did I agree to do this again?"

"Two leads and three months worth of editing."

"Right. Not nearly enough."

Chloe felt her heart sink, pleaded, "Lois? Please."

Her cousin sighed. "Are you sure about this? I mean really, truly sure. Chloe the way you feel about this guy . . ."

"Stop. Okay, just stop. We are friends." She bit off the word like it tasted awful then continued, "And besides, I'm not asking you to marry him. Just meet him. Spend a few hours with him. And then he'll go back to Star City and everything will go back to the way its supposed to be."

"Yeah, crazy." Lois snarked.

"All right, I didn't want to do this, but . . ." Chloe blew out a breath and said, "You owe me."

"What? How? On what planet do I owe you this?"

"General's Christmas party 1999, dogs, ruined turkey, iron-clad alibi, ring any bells?"

"Damn." Lois cursed under her breath. "Okay. But after this. All debts? Paid in full."

"Deal."

---

Chloe snatched the offer like a lifeline, and Lois could practically hear her cousin's relief over the phone. "Call me back when you see him."

Just then she saw a tall broad-shouldered man come to stand outside the hotel, obviously waiting for someone, looked down at the picture in her hand, and muttered through clenched teeth, "Too late. He's here."

Chloe's 'eep' and the click of the cell phone would have been comical if it hadn't left Lois standing dumbly in front of the Four Corners Park Plaza talking to air.

Still she kept the phone to her ear. Cellphone usage was the modern-day version of smoking. Gave you a reason to be loitering outside without looking suspicious. Taking advantage of the momentary anonymity, she looked over Chloe's Prince Charming.

She had to admit, her cousin had better taste than she would have given her credit for based off the horrible picture. Dark hair, strong jaw, beautiful shoulders, that tapered down to this narrow waist, and God she would bet his abs were to die for . . .

_No! Bad Lois. Down girl!_

She could not be having lascivious thoughts about her cousin's soul-mate. Damn she wanted a cigarette. Okay, focusing on the negatives. His clothes were definitely one. Very fruity white wine and brie, where she preferred pizza and beer.

"Chloe?"

And that pretty French-blue shirt was wearing him not the other way around. And he was so innocent looking, like a little lost puppy she just wanted to take home. How had he lasted a week at LuthorCorp?

"Chloe?"

And, oh damn, he was talking to her. She clicked her phone closed and forced a smile. God he had really _nice_ lips. She desperately searched his face for something annoying. But her eyes fell instead on the slight dimple on his chin. She'd always had a weakness for a dimpled chin, and his was just . . . perfect. Not so deep as to be comical, but definitely there in that classic American hero way. Put a uniform on him and she'd be . . .

Going straight to hell. _Chloe's guy, Lois. Put your skanky hormones back in storage._

"Ummm, you are Chloe, aren't you?"

She gritted her teeth, "Yeah. Yeah, I guess I am."

"Well, then I guess, I'm um . . . Alex."

He smiled, and even though it was a little uncertain and probably only half-wattage it knocked her straight for a loop.

Yup, it was official. She'd be roasting for all eternity.

----

Chloe had been just about to extricate herself from her Christmas tree refuge when the doors to the balcony swung open again, accompanied by voices.

"Dad, is there a reason you had to pull me out here now?"

"Well, I would just pick up the phone, except you seem to have stopped returning my calls. Really Lex, it shouldn't be this difficult for a man to speak to his own son."

Chloe's heart jumped. Lex. The voice had just called the other one, Lex, and everyone only knew one Lex, as in Lex Luthor. Which meant the man speaking had to be Lionel Luthor. She was listening in on a Luthor family squabble.

And they obviously thought they were alone.

_Thank you Santa._

"All right, one minute. And then I'm going back in there before people start to wonder where I am."

"They aren't the only ones, Lex. Your office at LuthorCorp Plaza has sat empty far too long."

"And it will continue to sit empty until I can be guaranteed the autonomy to run things my way. We've had this discussion, Dad. I'm not sharing control with you. I spent enough time cleaning up after your messes when you were sick."

"Exactly! You were magnificent. Helming the ship, keeping the course true. Imagine what we could accomplish together."

"The world trembles to think. Thirty seconds."

"Enough of this." Lionel's voice was suddenly harsh, "I've indulged your temper tantrums and childish desires long enough. Let you play with your tinker toy plant in Smallville, and this foundation." He made the word foundation sound like something particularly unpalatable.

"The one you started after your miraculous recovery from liver disease?"

"A man can be forgiven a few missteps after a brush with mortality. But to continue to indulge it? No, Lex, I'm sorry. It's time I put my foot down. I'm closing the foundation."

Chloe's heart lurched again. The LuthorCorp Foundation had become a major philanthropic player over the last three years. Hundreds of smaller charities around the city relied upon its annual support to keep going. Plus it ran its own programs in the areas of disease research and inner city violence. Shutting it down would be a massive blow to Metropolis.

There was a long silence and then. "No, you won't."

"Well, I don't see how you're going to stop me, son. On the other hand if you come back to Metropolis, took the position as CFO that I've been offering you, I'm sure you could find a way to convince me the Foundation makes good financial sense, once you've valued all that good will." There were footsteps and then Lionel's voice was closer to her, just by the door. "Think about it Lex. After all it would be a shame to have to tell all those deserving people there won't be a Christmas anymore."

And then Chloe felt a warm gust of air, heard the buzz of the crowds. Then the balcony doors closed and she was alone, again. With the biggest Christmas present anyone could give her . . . an angle that would knock Perry White's socks off.

Grabbing her pen and pad, she started to make frantic notes as she walked out from behind her Christmas tree cover.

And ran straight into a very solid body.

She started to tumble back, but hands came up to her elbows to steady her. "Funny, you don't look like an elf."

Swallowing her insanely girlish desire to squeal in surprise, Chloe looked up. Straight into the cold, ice-blue eyes of Lex Luthor.

He did not look happy.

If anything he looked decidedly pissed. For a second he gazed past her shoulder, and then his eyes narrowed. "How long have you been back there?"

Steeling herself, she worked on channeling reporters she admired. Thought how Alex always used to tell her that bullies respected strength, and fed on weakness, and shot back. "Long enough."

"And do you often skulk around balconies at charity events? Or is this a special case?"

Okay she really was indignant now. His voice was just so patronizing. "I _never_ skulk." Lex cast a significant look back over her shoulder at her Christmas tree hideout then down at her, raised one elegant eyebrow in silent inquiry. She cringed, added, "I occasionally choose an unobtrusive place to stand."

For just a second she could have sworn the corner of his mouth twitched, like there was a smile trying to break out, and absurdly she felt a little spark shoot through her at the way it transformed his face. Suddenly she was uncomfortably aware of the fact he still had his hands on her elbows, and she was standing close enough to him to feel the contrast of his body heat to the crisp December air, and she could smell his subtle expensive cologne.

And that little spark was igniting something that needed to be put out now.

Abruptly, she extricated herself from his grasp, scrambled back a few steps. Took another step back for safety. Said the first thing that came to her mind . . .

Which turned out to be a really bad idea.

"Care to comment on your father's plans to close the foundation?"

Lex's entire demeanor changed. His expressions shut down, his body tensed, and she remembered all those really frightening rumors that seemed to circulate around him about his misspent youth and dubious business practices. Still she chanted Alex's advice about strength to herself and stood her ground. Tried to look cool and professional and not think about the fact she was pretty sure there was tinsel in her hair.

"You're a reporter."

"Got it in one."

"Which paper?"

"You really think I'm going to tell you that so you can just make a quick call to my editor, and try to kill this?"

"I could have your press credentials revoked."

"You could, but then I'd just have to write a story about how LuthorCorp revoked my press pass to charity event of all things, and what are they trying to hide?"

"So you're a tabloid reporter."

The statement made her cringe and she had to fight not to tell him she wrote for the Planet. She guessed her threat had sounded a little tabloid, more sensation than substance. Maybe that wasn't a bad thing, if he spent his afternoon starting with the tabloid rags, that gave her enough time to try to pitch the story to Perry. Once White was on board with something, no one was going to tell him to call it off. Especially not a Luthor.

"You know what. I'm gonna take this as a no comment." She moved towards the balcony doors.

Lex put a hand out on the door and held it closed. "You know that story is never going to see print."

Looking up she gave him her best intrepid reporter smile. The one that said 'I'm not afraid of you in the least', "Gonna keep me out here? People are starting to stare."

He just smiled back, and then to her utter horror, reached up and brushed a lock of hair out of her face. Held up a shiny silver strand in front of her for inspection. "Tinsel."

Before she could reclaim any part of her dignity, he released the doors and stepped back.

As she walked back into the hall, Chloe told herself she was trembling in her pretty black pumps because of fear.

Not because Lex Luthor had made her just the tiniest bit weak in the knees.

----

Lex stared after the obnoxious blonde as she strutted back into the hall like she didn't have a care in the world.

He really should have had her press pass revoked just on principle, but there was something about her that was just so . . . he couldn't put his finger on it. But she was like a gingersnap in a box full of sugar cookies. Unexpected, shocking, and all the more enjoyable for the spice.

He was obviously losing his edge.

Still, this day was going from bad to worse. He was already running twenty different scenarios in his mind where his father would be able to make good on his threat without Lex being able to do a thing to stop it. And if that reporter published her story, even as it stood now, it would cause immense donor panic, pledged contributions would stop coming in, half the budget would dry up.

All he wanted was just to catch a glimpse of Chloe. Just the opportunity to see her, even from across the room would make this day infinitely better.

Except she wasn't here.

Where the hell was Clark?

Flipping open his phone, he dialed, got his friends voice-mail. Great. "Clark. Where are you? I swear if you stood her up to go save a kitten, I will not be held responsible for my actions."

----

Alex looked about as uncomfortable as Lois felt. They'd been standing outside the Four Corners Hotel for the past ten minutes making awkward small talk. 'Oh its so nice to see you after all this time' 'Your letters mean so much to me.' Fah-La-La La-La La-Lie-Lie-Lie.

"So," Lois rocked back on her heels, "Guess, we should go up then? Mingle with all those big donors."

"Right. Donors." Alex muttered despondently. He did not seem anymore excited about it than she did.

Oh this was going down hill fast. Her cousin would never forgive her if she screwed this up. But really, three hours standing in some stuffy ballroom making fake small talk with this guy who she didn't know at all. Anyone would blow it.

She needed to take drastic action.

"Ooor, I could show you around Metropolis, good food. Great bars. Hey there's Sharks game today!" The moment she said it she felt like an idiot. This guy went to prep-school, wrote to Chloe about German poets and politics and crap like that. "I mean it's just a suggestion, we don't have to go if you don't want to."

Alex looked like she had just thrown him a lifeline, "No. I mean yes. I mean . . . the Sharks, sound great."

He smiled again.

Score one for pizza and beer girl.

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	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Reviews are Christmas gifts for authors.

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**Chapter 3**

"Oh! Offsides! Offsides! Come on, ref wear your glasses, they can't make you any uglier!"

"Um, Chloe . . ." Clark placed a tentative hand on the brunette's shoulder, but she shrugged him off, too intent on the game to pay attention.

He had to admit, he was actually having a far better time than he'd anticipated. Even if she had dragged him to places he had been a number of times, Chloe was fairly enthusiastic tour guide. And an imposing one. Watching her argue the scalper outside the Shark's game down an additional fifty bucks, had been enlightening, embarrassing, and kind of amusing.

He just hadn't expected a woman who had spent the past seven years corresponding with Lex Luthor to be so . . .

"Sack him! Sack him!!!!"

Loud.

The players on the field did not follow Chloe's instructions resulting in a touchdown for the other team. She threw up her arms in aggravation, obviously forgetting the nearly full cup of hot chocolate in her hand.

Clark shot out a hand to steady it. Closing his fingers over her gloved ones, he gently but firmly guided the hot chocolate back down, where it was less likely to wind up on her hair.

It had been a purely instinctive move, one solely designed to protect her and all the other surrounding fans from scorching hot beverage. Which didn't explain at all why his heart was now beating a little faster and his hand didn't seem to be moving away.

Chloe didn't seem to be able to take her eyes off their hands anymore than he was.

Fearing he'd just made some kind of awful misstep, he hastened to explain, "I um . . . I didn't want you to spill."

She looked up, gave him a soft hesitant smile that made her look strangely vulnerable, caused something in his chest to twist. "Thanks."

"You're welcome."

Clark started to remove his hand, at least he was pretty sure that's what he'd been intending to do, but one of his fingers happened to brush the stripe of skin at her wrist where her glove didn't quite meet her coat. Eyes going wide, she jerked both hands back like she'd been burned.

Splashed the hot chocolate all over both their coats.

"Oh, crap." She stared at him in horror. "Oh, crap, I'm sorry. Geez, you can clean me up, but you can't take me out. I'm so sorry."

Clark just looked down at the dark black cashmere overcoat Lex had bought him, tried not to think about how it had probably cost a month's feed bill. "It's um . . . fine. Really, its no big deal."

"No, I'm just gonna go get some napkins. I'll be right back. Please don't run away in fear." And before he could stop her, Chloe had climbed over her seat into the row above them. Started half squeezing, half shoving her way towards the aisle.

He watched her go, a tornado of energy and absolute destruction, tried to again to picture her on Lex's arm or at his mansion, couldn't do it.

It wasn't that she didn't look the part. When he'd seen her across the plaza, she'd seemed exactly Lex's type. Long brunette hair, sleek dark pantsuit, incredibly beautiful, but as the day had gone on and she'd gotten more animated, more comfortable all those superficial trappings had started to get stripped away. Her jacket and pearls shed in the car, perfect makeup faded and never reapplied, sleek brunette hair swept up into a messy ponytail. By the time they'd gotten to the game she looked less business world glamor, more girl next door. He thought it suited her better.

She turned and waved a cluster of napkins over her head in triumph. Clark waved back, tried not to examine the fact that while it was impossible to visualize her in Lex's mansion, he was having no problem with the loft in his barn.

----

"No way!" Clark stopped in the middle of the street and stared Chloe in horror, "No way can you compare Jamal Smith to William Taylor. Taylor is a legend, best running back ever to play for the Sharks hands down."

She snorted in derision, "That's that prep-school attitude talking, all about what's old and traditional." She poked him in the chest to emphasize each word.

Irritated by the insistent chest poking, he grabbed her hand before she could do it again, and turned it so the finger was pointing at her. "Prep school attitude? Isn't that kind of pot calling the kettle black. Miss Valedictorian of Forsythe?"

For a second Chloe looked at him blankly, then she blinked, reclaimed herself and her hand. "Yeah well, I'm obviously a progressive. And apparently a better fan, Smith's rookie stats, blow Taylor's out of the water in every category."

"You're delusional."

"Wanna bet?"

She looked so smug, that he didn't think, just extended his hand and said, "Winner buys the other dinner."

It was only when Chloe didn't meet his hand that he realized they'd just gotten finished eating dinner tonight.

"Are you asking me out again?"

"No. I mean yes. I mean . . ." Dammit what was going to make Lex less likely to want to kill him? Asking Chloe out or telling her he wasn't? He looked down at her amazing hazel eyes, and found himself saying, "If you wouldn't mind going out with me again . . . "

For a second he thought she really would mind and there was a sinking feeling in his stomach that wasn't entirely due to the fact that Lex would _definitely_ kill him if he'd managed to make such a bad impression she didn't want to see him again. Then she smiled, grabbed his hand and started to drag him over to an internet cafe halfway down the block.

"Prepare to give your Platinum card a workout because I have always wanted to try the steak at Pietro's"

----

Chloe bit her lip and forced herself not to look at the clock on the microwave again. Wound up looking at the time on her computer instead.

10:26 PM

Exactly one minute later than the last time she looked.

Hunching her shoulders, she muttered, "Where the hell are you, Lois?"

As if in answer, she heard the sound of the key in the lock. Forcing herself to remain seated, she swung her desk chair around to watch her cousin walk into the apartment. Managed to almost let her get the door closed before she shrieked, "Where have you been?"

Lois jumped, whirled around with her hand on her throat, "Geez Chloe! Way to scare a girl!"

"Lois, you were supposed to be at the hotel. Where did you go? What have you been doing? Tell me you didn't chicken out."

"No! You should know me better than that. I told you'd I'd do this and I did."

"And?"

Her cousin shrugged diffidently, "And he's nice. A little square at first, but once we went to the Sharks game-"

"You took him to a Shark's Game? You made him blow off work for a football game." Oh God, Alex was going to think she was such a flake.

"Hey! I didn't make him do anything. He was no more excited about some stuffy LuthorCorp 'aren't we great' press junket than I was. In fact he practically jumped at the chance."

"Are you sure he wasn't pushed?" Chloe knew she sounded snappish and ungrateful, but she was still reeling at the idea of her Alex at a Shark's football game. And then she thought of how Lois got at sporting events and she practically choked. "Oh Lois, please tell me you didn't ask the ref if he had as much trouble finding his dick as he did the ball?"

Lois looked away sheepishly, "I don't think those exact words ever came out of my mouth."

Whimpering, Chloe dropped onto the couch and buried her face in a pillow. It was official, Alex was never going to speak to her again. Not that he'd ever spoken to her before, but still. It was the principle of the thing.

"Hey relax." Lois sat down next to her, rubbed her back. "It's okay, really. He asked to see me--I mean you--again."

She shot up so fast she almost knocked Lois over. "What!?"

"He wanted to take you out again tomorrow night. To dinner and ice-skating. Which means I didn't scare him away. So . . ." Lois held her fists up, shook them in a tentative little cheer, "Yay?"

----

"Repeat that please." Lex was aware his voice had gone flat and neutral in the way that usually made underlings tremble, but he didn't care. If anything he'd like it if Clark would tremble just a little.

As it was, his friend was definitely avoiding his eyes.

"I was wondering if you could get me a reservation at Pietro's tomorrow."

"You're taking Chloe to Pietro's?"

Clark nodded.

"You asked her out, on a date?!" His voice didn't sound nearly so neutral anymore.

"No! I didn't ask her. I mean I didn't mean to. It just kind of . . . happened." Clark finished lamely.

Lex braced his hands on the desk, took a few calming breaths, which failed to be effective. "How do you just happen to ask someone out on a date?"

Clark winced, "I lost a bet."

Lex stared at him.

"Look, we were comparing Taylor and Smith. Football players," he clarified, "and I bet her dinner that Taylor had better rookie stats, and I lost, and she wants Pietro's."

"You lost a bet," Lex said the words slowly, precisely, like tasting them would somehow make them make more sense. "With Chloe . . . about football?"

Clark nodded.

And the world remained exactly as confusing as it had been a minute ago. "Chloe doesn't even like football."

She'd once written him a three page treatise on the inherent stupidity of socially whitewashed violence. He'd written back about self-confidence and the need for appropriately channeled aggression, citing what boxing and fencing had done for him. The debate had extended over three weeks, five letters and two emails.

Clark looked at him strangely. "Are you sure? Because she seemed pretty enthusiastic at the Sharks game."

"You took her to a Sharks game?"

"Actually, she took me. I've got to say she's little different than how you described her."

Lex walked over to his wet bar. Poured two fingers of scotch. Downed it. Poured two more.

Moving to stand beside him, Clark said, "Lex, I . . . I'm really sorry if I messed things up. As I said it kind of happened, and I didn't want her to think that you didn't like her enough to want to go out again. Just . . . tell me what you want me to do and I'll do it. Do you want me to cancel?"

He shook his head, even as a part of him railed against the idea of Chloe looking forward to a dinner with anyone who wasn't him, a bigger part ached for her just at the thought of how she would take the rejection of being canceled on. "No. No I would never do that to Chloe." Squeezing his eyes shut he continued, "At least tell me you're not planning on taking her to another football game before you go to dinner."

"I was thinking ice-skating."

----

"Lois, I don't know how to ice-skate!"

"Well, maybe you're a natural?" Her cousin ventured with a wan smile.

"Arrgggh," She groaned, "how could you do this?"

"Hey!" Lois snapped, "You begged and pleaded and guilted me into it. I'm doing the best I can. You didn't exactly give me a manual on how to handle things."

"Well, I didn't expect you to completely fuck them up."

Lois flinched, stood up from the couch and muttered, "Then maybe you should go tomorrow night and fix them."

Chloe could hear the defensive hurt in her cousin's voice, and felt immediately guilty. For as good a front as she put up, Lois had always had a bit of an inferiority complex about her standing a the family's resident screw-up. And here she was blaming her for this impossible situation that _she'd_ created. Talk about being a bitch.

Sitting up, she scrubbed at her eyes, and sighed, "I'm sorry. I just . . . I guess I'd always kind of hoped Alex would teach me to skate. And now he's going to. And I-, I'm not even going to be there."

Lois turned and looked at her, "Oh, Chlo."

"No. Don't, 'oh Chlo' me, I did this to myself."

Lois frowned, then said, "You know, I think you should go tomorrow."

Chloe stared at her in horror. "No! No, I can't."

"I don't see why not. Alex is a great guy. And he-" Lois swallowed, "he's obviously crazy about you. And if he doesn't take one look at you and think you're beautiful, then well . . . he's a jerk."

"I thought he was a great guy?"

"I reserve the right to change my mind."

Half-smiling at her cousin's protectiveness, Chloe sighed, "Thanks. But its not about the looks thing. Not really."

Biting her lip, she tried to figure out how to explain Alex to Lois without betraying too much of his privacy. "Alex doesn't trust a lot people in his life. I think he's been hurt a lot. Anyway, he had this friend who lied to him about something that he felt was critical to their friendship. Lois . . . he was _so_ angry. It nearly tore them apart. I don't care if he never takes me ice-skating or I never get to hear his voice or his laugh or if he always thinks I look like you, but-" her voice broke a little, "I can't have him hate me like that Lois. I just . . . can't."

This time Lois sunk down onto the couch beside her and pulled her into a hug. Chloe let her. "God Chloe, I'm sorry."

She shook her head, sniffled, "No. It's not your fault. I pushed you into this. And I did this to myself by being stupid and pathetic and insecure."

"Hey!" Lois jerked back, gave her a little shake, "That's my cousin you're talking about. No one insults her but me. And you know what? I think I've just forgotten how to skate entirely."

Chloe gave her a watery smile, "Thanks. You're the best."

"Ooooh, trust me. I'm not that good."

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	4. Chapter 4

A/N: As I said this story was started as a Christmas present for the Chlexers over at N-S, but I have honestly had as much fun writing the Clois scenes as those for my chosen pair, so its been great fun to hear the reactions over here where the readers seem to be a mix. I'm glad I've been able to do other's fav couple some kind of justice. I really appreciate the feedback. A little something for everyone in this chapter no matter which couple is your fav.

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Chloe was trying to be rational about this. Really she was, and she thought overall she'd been doing a pretty good job. She'd gotten up and gone in to the office, worked on the notes for her article. Called in a few favors to get a better handle on the kind of legal controls Lionel Luthor had over the LuthorCorp Foundation, surreptitiously probing to try to find out what he'd need to make good on his threat to close it down.

It had been slow going. Prying any information out of the virtual Fort Knox that was LuthorCorp was difficult. Trying to do it without giving away exactly what you were fishing for, was like walking a tight-rope. But overall she'd been pleased with her progress. She now knew a few very critical things:

The most important being—Lionel Luthor absolutely had the power to make good on his threat.

The second most important being that sometime between the time Lionel had started the foundation and now, it had become his son's pet project, almost an obsession. She had gone back through the clippings for the past three years and there were few that didn't point to Lex Luthor's very personal involvement. Which, from everything she'd learned about the man, meant he was going to fight his father tooth and nail. And as the second largest shareholder in LuthorCorp, he definitely had some teeth.

Which meant it all had the potential to get very ugly.

This story was the gift that kept on giving.

Any other day that would have her walking on air, but today it barely registered, was just so much noise in the background as she stressed over the date with Alex this evening.

The date she wasn't going on.

She told herself she was being irrational. After all, Lois hadn't wanted to do this, had even tried to get her to go instead.

So there was absolutely no reason to be jealous.

Still when she called her cousin at 5 p.m. from the Foundation's volunteer fair to check up, something about the conversation made her uneasy. It wasn't anything Lois said or even what she didn't say. If anything she acted exactly how Chloe would have expected, exasperated, put upon, and getting a little irritated.

And yet, Chloe couldn't shake the vague feeling that underneath it all Lois had maybe sounded just the tiniest bit . . . excited.

Which was ludicrous because Alex wasn't her cousin's type of guy at all. Sure maybe in the looks department he had that kind of classic All-American thing that made Lois and pretty much every other female on the planet melt, but that would have mattered for about all of three seconds. The things that really made Alex, Alex, his acerbic wit, his penchant for lecturing on obscure pieces of military history, his low tolerance for fools, any one of those things would have Lois running for the hills.

So she wasn't worried at all.

And she was just grabbing her coat, and heading all the way across Four Corners Park in the snow, to Metropolis's answer to Rockfeller Center because she still hadn't gotten a chance to actually catch a glimpse of Alex in the flesh.

That was all it was.

Because really she trusted Lois completely.

----

Lex didn't trust Clark at all.

He'd come to this conclusion last night while working on his third scotch, trying to figure out why Clark's description of the evening had rubbed him the wrong way. And then it had come to him like a revelation, a blinding flash of insight so bright he was amazed he hadn't seen this massive flaw in his plan earlier.

Clark was falling for Chloe himself.

He should have seen this coming a mile off. In the end he could only blame it on the fact that Clark was perhaps the world's ultimate boy-scout, adhering to a moral code so rigid it might as well have been made of steel. But Lex knew better than anyone that when met with a powerful enough force every person had their tipping point.

And the enchantment of Chloe Sullivan was exactly that powerful.

Still for all that he was certain he was right, for all that he'd wanted to go wake Clark up in the middle of the night and throw him out of the penthouse, he felt he at least owed his friend the opportunity to prove him wrong. He wanted solid proof to throw in Clark's face before he devised something extremely painful as retribution.

He'd thought briefly about putting a surveillance team on him, but rejected it. As angry as he was right now, he didn't want to risk even the slightest possibility that Clark might have to use his powers while he was being followed. He wouldn't gamble with his friend's secret that way. Which meant it was something he'd have to do himself.

Which is how he came to be standing next to Four Corners Park skating rink at 5:30 p.m. watching Clark Kent lead Chloe onto the ice.

She was just as beautiful in person as she was in her photograph, perhaps a little more . . . animated than he'd expected, all flailing arms and almost cartoonish facial expressions, but he imagined that had to do with nervousness since Lex remembered she'd never skated before. That made something his chest twist and suddenly he wished he'd told Clark to choose another activity, one that Clark wouldn't get to teach her or share her first time with her . . .

He watched as Clark brought a hand up to Chloe's waist to steady her, felt a vein in his head start to throb.

. . . definitely one that involved less touching.

----

Even though she'd grown up playing ice-hockey with all the boys on the base, Lois wasn't having nearly as much trouble pretending to be unsteady on skates as she had anticipated. Just being around Alex seemed to turn her into a complete and absolute spaz.

Like right now when he'd put a hand at her back, and she'd practically jumped out of her skin, started tripping over her feet.

"Careful." Alex warned, putting a hand out to steady her. "Here," he caught one her hands in his, "lets just go slow at first."

She tried to find her voice, couldn't, wound up just nodding.

He was so patient and gentle as he took her around the rink, treating her almost like she was something fragile, like a china doll he was afraid might break. It should have annoyed her, pissed her off.

But it didn't.

No one had ever wanted to protect her like that, not even her own father. The General loved her, supported her, but he believed in war wounds, that the fight made a soldier stronger. So she was the tough one, the fun one, the good time girl. Guys wanted to party with her, because they didn't have to worry about hurting her. And here Alex was treating her like she was precious, like he wanted to keep her from harm.

All because he thought she was someone else.

Because Lois Lane just wasn't the type of girl guys like Alex wanted to take care of.

And she needed to remember that.

Whirling around on the ice, she slapped him playfully on the chest with the flat of her hand, "Okay, so this has been fun, but what do you say we make it a bit more interesting? Bet you can't catch me."

----

"Umm, Chloe, I don't think that's such a good idea."

But she was already taking off, flying down the ice like she was born to it.

Letting out a whoop of joy so infectious Clark couldn't help but follow after her.

God, she was absolutely unlike any woman he had ever met. She just attacked life, did everything with such incredible gusto, it made you feel like anything was possible. When he was around her, he forgot about all the responsibilities, all the weight on his shoulders, all the people he'd failed to save and the ones he had yet to fail.

Right now on this ice, chasing after her, watching her brunette hair streaming behind her, and listening to her laugh, he felt normal, felt free.

Felt like a regular guy on a date with the girl of his dreams.

And before he had a chance to really register how dangerous that feeling was and pull back, Chloe took the turn a little too slowly, and he was catching her around the waist, with a triumphant "Gotcha!"

And then their combined momentum took over and they were spinning and falling in a tangle of arms and legs and sidesplitting laughter.

Instinctively, he turned them so he hit the ice instead of her, wound up with an armful of soft, warm Chloe on top of him.

"Oh," she looked down at him in embarrassed concern, "Oh, your head. Are you okay?" And before he could stop her, she was running her fingers through his hair, checking for tender spots. "Does it hurt?"

It was so far from hurting it wasn't funny. Her fingers were stroking the nape of his neck, and he could feel her warm breath on his skin, smell the coconut of her shampoo, and he definitely needed to break this moment up.

"No, but you're getting pretty heavy."

To his surprise, she laughed, smiled down at him affectionately. "Weakling."

And then it happened.

He wasn't exactly sure how it happened, whether she'd been intending to kiss his cheek and he'd just moved his head, or if she'd even meant to kiss him at all. But for just a split second her lips had brushed his, and the shock of it must have short-circuited every rational thought in his brain, because the next thing he knew, he was flicking his tongue along the line of her lips, and she was opening her mouth to him.

And she felt so perfect, he completely forgot she wasn't his.

----

Lex's hands white-knuckled on the railing.

He was going to kill Clark.

He'd thought about it once or twice back when they always at sword-points, but it had always been a vague fantasy, little more than a fleeting wish born of frustration. There'd been no heat behind it, no real impetus.

There was nothing vague about this. In fact he was imagining it right now in vivid satisfying detail.

And what's more he knew how to do it.

He kept a piece of kryptonite in his mansion, in a lead box, just like the Kents. He hadn't wanted it, maybe didn't trust himself with it. But Clark had insisted, pointed out that they both had seen too many times when something happened that made him unpredictable, potentially dangerous, and he'd wanted Lex to have the ability to protect himself. So he'd taken it, put it in his safe and silently vowed he'd never use it.

He wanted to use it now.

Maybe not to actually kill Clark, but at least let him have the satisfaction of giving the younger man a black eye.

He watched as Chloe shifted into a sitting position, smiled shyly down at Clark.

Two black eyes.

And possibly a split lip.

After all Clark would heal as soon as he put the kryptonite away.

Unfortunately.

Taking another deep breath, he forced himself to turn away, started to make his way back around the outside of the rink to his car before his desire to do bodily harm snapped the last thread of rationality and he actually resorted to physical violence. After all there wouldn't be anything particularly satisfying about breaking his hand on Clark's jaw.

Had only made it halfway around to the rink to the large Christmas tree that towered over the skaters, when he ran smack dab into the absolute last person he wanted to see.

Okay, second to last.

Anyone was better than his father.

Even infuriating blonde reporters.

----

Chloe blinked back the tears, and tried to swallow around the horrible choking lump in her throat. She felt like she was suffocating, felt like she drowning or someone had removed all the air from the world.

Lois had kissed him! Her Alex! And he had kissed her back!

God, she was so stupid! Of course he had kissed her back. She was Lois. Guys always went for Lois. She was gorgeous and athletic and could drink most of them under the table. Lois was fun. Lois was sexy. Lois was everything most guys wanted.

Chloe had just thought Alex would be different.

She watched as he pulled back and looked up at Lois with a half-dazed smile on his face, felt the lump in her throat get even bigger.

She had to get out of here.

Turning away she began to run back across the park as fast as she could, which unfortunately in ankle deep snow wasn't very fast.

It was still fast enough that, with her head down, she didn't see the individual approaching from the other direction until it was too late.

"Oof."

A pair of gloved hands came up to steady her, and then depressingly familiar, and not particularly pleasant, voice drawled, "We've got to stop meeting this way."

Lifting her chin, Chloe glared up at coolly elegant face of Lex Luthor as he looked down at her with barely disguised disdain. She didn't care. At this moment, she hated the world, and she decided she most especially hated this man with his perfect clothes and sleek elegance and obscene sexuality. This man who probably had never felt anything like heartache because he could just look at the person he wanted and have them.

God she wanted to snap at him, wanted to verbally flay him. But she couldn't. Because there was still this awful suffocating lump of betrayal in her throat, cutting off her air supply, and she couldn't even scream. So with an inarticulate little grunt of frustration, she just shrugged off his hands and tried to push her way past him.

He caught her by the upper arm. "Leaving so soon? But we've just gotten started."

Darting a quick glance over her shoulder to make sure Lois and Alex weren't coming up behind her, she gritted her teeth, and ground out, "Let go of me."

He did, but not without a parting shot, "So you get caught following me and run away without a word. I've got to say I'm disappointed."

And suddenly that lump in her throat, that choking sadness was replaced with something else, something simpler and less painful—pure unadulterated anger. She whirled around, "Do you actually have to have doors made wider to fit your ego? I wasn't following you. Didn't even know you were here. And as surprising as it may be to you, running into you is not the highlight of every woman's day, so you'll excuse me if I didn't genuflect before I went back to my life."

Something in his face changed, nothing overt, nothing that you could really call an expression, it was just that his features became more set, more rigid, like he was putting on a mask, and she realized too late that something she said might have actually struck a nerve, that perhaps his day had been no better than hers. But before she could apologize, he spoke again. "Well, its good to know that your desire to make your name on a story that's based on little more than conjecture and speculation hasn't affected your social life."

Conjecture and speculation?! He really thought she'd publish a story that wasn't much better than gossip? God, the arrogance of this man. "So if I ask you whether you intend to try to use your shares to block your father's attempt to elect William Casey to the board of LuthorCorp as leverage against him closing the Foundation, which he still has the power to do as the sole trustee, that's just conjecture and speculation?"

Lex quirked an eyebrow at her in an expression that looked almost appreciative. "You've done your homework."

"Always do." Just then she remembered exactly where she was. Not more than ten feet away from the skating rink where her cousin had been playing tonsil hockey with her Alex. Face twisting in consternation, she darted a glance over to the rink.

He crossed his arms. "Am I keeping you from something?"

_Just committing homicide._

"No I just-," she looked up at him blankly, then shook herself. _Get a hold of yourself, Chloe. Lex Luthor is standing in front of you practically challenging you to interview him. At least get something out of your crappy day._

But before she could follow through on this new resolve, she saw Lois and Alex turn in their skates at the counter and start heading straight towards them.

Did the only thing she could think of . . .

Hid.

----

Lex grunted in surprise as the obnoxious blonde grabbed the lapels of his overcoat and pulled him back behind the lit branches of the huge Norway Spruce. It wasn't the most unpleasant experience in the world. She was warm and soft, with undeniably feminine curves, and she smelled unexpectedly like baked goods and with just a hint of citrus. Made him think of mulled cider and places where people told stories around fireplaces. Still it all felt a little surreal.

And really, what was with this woman and Christmas trees?

"I'm sorry, wha-"

"Shhh!" she hissed up at him and then tilted her head to peer around his shoulder and through the branches.

"Are you hiding?"

"Shhh!" was the only response she gave before she released him and moved to a better position to observe whoever it was she was observing.

Curiosity getting the better of his survival instinct, he turned to follow her gaze, shifted one of the branches out of the way . . .

And found himself staring at the approaching forms of Clark Kent and Chloe Sullivan.

"Shit."

By the time he realized he hadn't said that, the blonde was grabbing him again and pushing him back against the branches, even as she was turning her head to follow Clark and Chloe's path away from the skating rink.

Chloe laughed at something Clark had said, then wrapped her arm around his and briefly touched her forehead to his shoulder. Lex had to fight not to growl.

Clark brushed a strand of hair out her face and smiled. To Lex's shock the blonde let out a sound that was something very close to a growl, if you crossed it with a wail, and stumbled away from him to glare after the retreating couple.

"He doesn't even know her." she whispered, sounding devastated, "She doesn't even like poetry or opera, and she took him to a football game! Doesn't he know I would never do that? I mean I know she's gorgeous and exciting, but doesn't he know, can't he see its not me?"

Lex just stared at her in shock, as slowly all the pieces started to come together, and he came to a series of world-altering realizations.

First, Clark Kent could remain alive, so he didn't need that kryptonite after all.

Because Chloe, the real Chloe, _his_ Chloe, had not been kissing Clark. His Chloe was standing right here in front him, covered in snow and evergreen needles, and yes, a single strand of tinsel.

The second being, he had wasted a good portion of the last six years approaching nearly every long-legged, statuesque brunette who crossed his path out of some vague subconscious hope that he might one day happen to meet her.

Because his Chloe was blonde and petite and . . . absolutely breathtaking.

Sniffling a little, she turned back to face him and sighed. "I'm sorry. I'm not usually this crazy. I've just had kind of a weird day. I guess I should at least introduce myself." She stuck out her hand, "I'm Chloe Sullivan."

He met it in a daze.

She continued completely oblivious. "And you, of course, are Lex Luthor, and-" A look of horror crossed her face, "And Oh My God I pushed you into a tree!"

"It's all right. Really."

But she wasn't listening to him. "Look I'm sorry. Really, I am, but before you get any ideas about taking your revenge, you should know my editor thinks I'm very valuable."

And in the midst of his happy, wonderful daze, Lex was suddenly slammed with a third horrible realization.

His Chloe . . . thought he was kind of an asshole.

- + - + - + - + -


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: Thanks for all the feedback. It's been really lovely. I know we're now past Christmas, for which I apologize. I hit a massive mess at work, but hopefully you're all still just enjoying the story for the story. This is a Chlex-centric chapter. Those of you who are reading for Clois, don't worry, we'll get back to them.

- + - + - + - + -

A Christmas tree.

Dear god, she had pushed Lex Luthor into a Christmas tree! And now she was shaking his hand. And her heart was still beating . . . at a rather alarming rate.

Well, at least she now knew for certain it was physically impossible to die of embarrassment.

Damn.

It would have been the easiest way out of this.

She could feel him looking at her. No doubt plotting the demise of her career. Maybe it would be something swift and merciful like a firing, but she didn't think so. He seemed more like the slow dismemberment type, like a predator who enjoyed playing with his food before he ate it. Which really she thought was totally unfair. Okay, yes, Christmas tree, demi-god of Metropolis. But still, that was no reason to go about ruining her life out of spite.

Scrooge.

"Look I'm sorry. Really, I am, but before you get any ideas about taking your revenge, you should know my editor thinks I'm very valuable." She felt her face flush as soon as the words were out of her mouth. Dammit, that was the stupidest thing to say. Truly important people didn't protest their importance.

"I'm sure he does." Lex murmured.

Chloe scowled. Now he was just mocking her. Except, when she met his eyes, he didn't exactly look mocking. If anything he looked a little . . . bemused. Which was just further proof that she was totally irrational and needed to get away from him as quickly as possible.

Forcing a bright false smile, she tried to laugh it off. "Okay, while I'm sure you get manhandled by crazy blondes everyday, this is actually kind of an embarrassing lapse in sanity for me, so I'm just gonna go . . . and try to pretend this was a bad dream. Maybe the Christmas spirit could move you to do the same?"

Not waiting to hear his response, she turned to go.

Was stopped by the fact Lex hadn't actually released her hand.

"Have coffee with me."

"What?"

"Coffee. It's a traditionally hot beverage, people often consume while engaging in casual conversation."

"Thank you Encyclopedia Britannica"

He still hadn't released her hand, and his grip tightened ever so slightly like he was trying to keep her from escaping. "Have a cup of coffee with me, and I might just be able to forget this ever happened."

"You're blackmailing me?" This was officially her weirdest day ever.

He smiled. It was a surprisingly nice smile, a little mischievous, a little self-deprecating. Like a boy who's embarrassed at being caught with his hand in the cookie jar, but knows he's going to get away with it all the same. "You did just push me into a tree. The least you can do is tell me the story behind it."

He kind of had her there.

Still, she shook her head. "I don't-"

"Don't tell me you have something better to do."

That stopped her protest short. Because honestly she didn't. All she had was her empty apartment, a pint of Ben and Jerry's, a backstabbing cousin, and a box of apparently meaningless (definitely not love) letters.

"You know what? I really don't."

"Good." And with that Lex Luthor placed a hand at the small of her back and began to guide her away from the skating rink.

"Ummm," Chloe pointed in the opposite direction towards the concession stand, "The coffee is that way."

"At least let me try do better than that," he smirked.

Damn weak knees.

Dumbly she let him continue to lead her to the parking lot. Pulled up short, at the sight of his ridiculously flashy and weather inappropriate Porsche. What did she really think was going on here? She was not the type of girl who could physically accost billionaires and get asked out for coffee in response.

"Something wrong?"

"I'm just having a kind of reality check." Turning she crossed her arms and challenged, "Why are you doing this?"

For a moment Lex looked a little confused, and then his features went tight. "You think I have an angle?"

The words were quiet, and there was a thread of disappointment in his voice, that made her feel the tiniest bit guilty. But not enough to back down. "You're Lex Luthor. I think you have at least three angles." She smiled in an attempt to lessen the sting of her words, "But I'll settle for only knowing one."

"If my reputation is really that bad, you should give me an opportunity to improve it."

Despite the slightly flippant response, there was still something a little guarded, a little defensive in his gaze, and she found herself wondering whether he ever let someone inside, what kind of person you had to be to get past those walls.

Somehow she was betting the description didn't include the words crazy, snarky or reporter.

Deciding not to push her luck, she moved towards the Porsche with a dismissive wave. "Fine, don't let me in on your diabolical plan. You know I'll just figure it out on my own."

----

Lex didn't have anything even remotely resembling a plan.

He just hadn't been able to stand the thought of letting go. After having her so close, experiencing the flesh and blood reality of Chloe in his hands, he'd been loathe to let her simply walk away. He didn't know why, but this felt like his one shot to make a better impression, like if he let her escape he'd never have a second chance.

Granted, blackmailing her into coffee wasn't an auspicious start.

But for the first time in his life he was acting purely on instinct and impulse, cliff-diving off the edge and just trying not to fall flat on his face. It wasn't a terribly pleasant sensation.

In an interview for the Journal that never made it to print, Carrie Castle had once called him "the business world's ultimate adrenaline junkie" implying his tendency towards bold, decisive, often surprising, moves, were some kind of substitute for the addictive, high-risk behaviors of his youth. While he'd killed the story, he'd kept the line in his memory because he'd thought it apt.

But it had never applied to women. They were always the sure thing, the low risk proposition. If for no other reason than he simply didn't care all that much.

Now he cared, deeply, passionately.

And he didn't have the slightest clue what he was doing.

Someday he was sure he'd take the time to appreciate the irony of that, but right now it had taken all of his negotiation skills and business acumen, just to get her into the damn Porsche.

On paper Chloe Sullivan was a delightful, soothing presence, a balm to his soul. In person, she had to be the most impossible woman he had ever encountered in his life.

He watched her bite her bottom lip as they pulled up to the valet parking outside his favorite Italian restaurant.

She still made his heart beat faster.

"Uh, uh no way."

Maybe it was the impending coronary.

Sighing, he kept his hand on the gear shift. "I hesitate to ask."

"You can't take me here for coffee."

He didn't see why not. "Toscana" was one of the best restaurants in the city. The owner prided herself on her espresso just as much as her food. And most importantly it was on the other side of the city from "Pietro's." Miles away from Clark Kent and the poor substitute.

Chloe turned in her seat to face him, a look of abject horror on her face. "This is how you're getting your revenge isn't it? Taking me here for coffee and letting me watch everyone else eat all that amazing food. You really are as devious as they say."

The words could have been hurtful, a judgment on his unfortunately well-earned reputation, but somehow it was none of those things. Chloe's voice was playfully accusatory and admiring. Lex smirked despite himself, "You have no idea."

Chloe gaped at him.

Dammit. He'd done it again. Acted exactly like himself. The guy she thought was an asshole. This was not going the way he wanted at all. He wanted the opportunity to change her impression of him, not confirm it.

Only there was something about her, that got under his skin, past every careful constructed defense that usually gave him enough distance to choose how to react. It wasn't that she knew more about him than almost any other person on the planet. After all, she didn't realize that, certainly wasn't using any of that knowledge to get him. This was worse and better all at once. This so unconscious, so natural, like there was a little part of her that intuitively recognized a part of him.

He just wished it had been a nicer part.

Resolving once again, to keep his tongue in check, he shifted the car into park, and grumbled, "You know I don't usually have this much trouble convincing a woman to have dinner with me."

"And if you'd offered me dinner, you wouldn't have a problem now. But at the moment all I'm facing is the cruel and unusual punishment of being Lazarus at the feast."

She had him there.

"And if I remedy that now?"

"Lead on MacDuff."

He'd been about to point this wasn't duel to the death. But she was already out of the car, and thinking back over the exhausting exchange of the last twenty minutes, he decided the reference was pretty accurate. So instead he got out and tossed the keys to the valet.

Wasn't even remotely surprised to come around and find her already heading inside the restaurant, not letting him even get the satisfaction of holding the door for her.

----

"No, I'm serious. I am literally standing there, at attention, swearing to my Uncle upon pain of death that Lois had been nowhere near those dogs before they went off the leash, and there is this little voice in the back of my head, going 'what if he has surveillance footage', 'what if he checks for fingerprints or DNA'? Do these seem like the thoughts a normal twelve year old?"

Lex smiled, "I wouldn't know."

"I guess being a billionaire's kid kind of kills the normal, huh?" Chloe observed absently as she reached for another piece of bread.

"And being a bald, billionaire's kid puts the nail in its coffin."

Chloe winced. That's right, the meteor shower, his hair loss. That had all been around his eleventh or twelfth birthday, she remembered the articles she'd pulled up in her research, when she was trying to get a bead on Lex's relationship with his father. So many of them had been written with an almost malicious pity, and the unstated but always implied judgment that it was retribution for the sins of the father visited on the son.

She felt like a clod. Barreling full-speed ahead into things, assuming she always had the right to go places she didn't. Just because she was currently suffering from the inability to shut up around this man, didn't mean he was feeling compelled to share his life story.

Maybe he was bored beyond belief. After all, she'd spent the last fifteen minutes telling him stories about Lois, in some kind of weird over-compensation for her anger. Like giving voice to all the good times she'd had with her cousin, would help to remind her why actual murder wasn't really the best option when she got home. It was working, too. Lex had so far at least made a good show of being amused and interested, and with every somewhat humorous tale she had felt a little more of ire dissipate.

But now she'd well and truly put her foot in it. She reached for another piece of bread.

Stopped when Lex put a hand over hers.

"Are you going to kill this one, too?" he asked, casting his eyes over to her plate.

Chloe followed his gaze, eyes widening in horror at the small pile of decimated bread pieces in front of her. She flushed in embarrassment. "Sorry, nervous habit."

"Are you?" Lex asked, still holding her hand. Without gloves, she could feel that his skin was dry and warm, and while his hands weren't calloused or work-roughened like some of the soldiers Lois had tried to set her up with, there was strength there.

She swallowed, "Am I what?"

Idly his thumb grazed a pulse point on her wrist. "Nervous."

Something shot through her and Chloe snatched her hand back, "No!" Then realizing how ridiculous that sounded, laughed, "Yes. Of course, I'm nervous. I'm sitting here having dinner and rambling like an idiot, and without meaning to, I brought up something any cub reporter in Metropolis knows to stay away from. I'm sorry, I wasn't trying to pry."

"Funny, I always thought that was exactly what a reporter was supposed to do."

"But there's getting a real story, and then there's digging into people's lives for the sake of sales. That," she made a vague gesture with her hand, "isn't anyone's business, certainly not mine."

"Are you interviewing me?" That guarded note had come back in his voice .

Chloe blanched, as she thought back over her explanation and realized how it sounded, "No! No, I would never do that. If this was an interview, you would know it."

"So this is just a conversation. And your question was just a question." She nodded, and he leaned forward conspiratorially, "I might be a little rusty on normal human interaction, but I think that's allowed."

He gave her that mischievous little boy smile again. Chloe found herself answering it, and a little part of her wondered at the fact she could smile like this, even as she knew Alex was out there somewhere with Lois. Wasn't sure what that meant.

But the waiter arrived with the soup and crostini before she could decide.

----

The waiter had just brought the tiramisu and promised espresso when Chloe leaned forward, crossing her arms on the table, in a somewhat undignified manner, and gave him a frank look. "I've figured why you're doing this."

Lex was glad he hadn't gotten around to tasting the coffee yet. It saved him from choking on it.

Forcing his cup to continue on its preset course, he stalled for time by taking a sip of what was probably an excellently prepared espresso. It could have been three days old and burned for all he tasted it. Chloe was still holding his gaze waiting. She had beautifully candid green eyes. There was nothing innocent or naïve there, nothing you'd think to take advantage of. Instead there was a genuineness, a 'what you see is what you get' quality that he knew from experience was perhaps the most rare and precious of all things. Eyes which, he was slowly realizing, held no anger.

Lex carefully set the cup back down on the table in amazement. "You're not angry?"

Seeming to consider the question, Chloe cocked her head slightly, and bit her bottom lip again. God, it had to be most unconsciously alluring gesture he'd ever seen, and he couldn't look away as she continued to worry away the last remaining remnants of her lipstick.

All night he'd felt overwhelmed by her. He'd spent six years memorizing ever feature, learning every freckle and perfect imperfection until he was certain when he met her it would feel like coming home. Now she was here and nothing he knew, and he couldn't learn her fast enough. Each newly noticed feature was her best one, every expression mesmerizing. He wanted to take in all of her in one heady shot, wanted to savor her over days, months, make an extended study of everything from the line of her neck, to the exact shade of her hair in sunset and moonlight and dawn.

Finally she spoke, and he snapped his gaze back to her eyes. "Let's just say I understand, and leave it at that."

He'd take it.

"After all," she continued, "I'd be a pretty poor reporter if I didn't know how important the LuthorCorp Foundation obviously is to you. So go ahead," she made a 'hit me' gesture, "lay it on me."

"I'm sorry?" But he had the sinking feeling he knew exactly where this was going.

"Your pitch. I mean that's your plan, right? Take the reporter out when she's obviously vulnerable, wine her and dine her and convince her you're not that bad a guy. And then when she's good and thoroughly charmed, you give her this great set of reasons about why she shouldn't pursue her story. I'm betting there's grandmothers and injured children being turned out of their homes somewhere in there. Well you've done the wining and dining very well, so go ahead, manipulate my emotions."

The foundation. Her story. The one that had the potential to seriously threaten next year's budget. Right. He'd forgotten. Idly, he stirred his coffee. "What about the charming? Have I accomplished that?"

Chloe blushed and looked away, "A little, but you already kind of knew that, didn't you?"

No, he'd hoped, but honestly he felt like he couldn't be certain of anything with her. Every time he got his footing, she turned his world on its head.

"Look Lex, you've been really nice to me tonight, and whatever your reasons for doing so, I appreciate it, I do. I think you might have saved Lois's life. But I like to live in this little place called reality, and even if crazy fairytales where knights in really expensive Porsches wanted to sweep girls like me off their feet, I'm not who they should come true for. Not right now."

"Chloe-"

But she held a hand up to cut him off. "No, let me say this before the wine wears off, and I realize the really ridiculous assumptions I'm making and lose my nerve. I am not someone to be involved with, right now. I am half in love with a guy I only know on paper, and I sent him my cousin's picture and then my actual cousin. If that doesn't say seek psychiatric help, I don't know what does."

"Chloe-" he started again, knowing this was the perfect time to confess he needed even more counseling than her, but the words wouldn't come out fast enough.

"And even if there wasn't that whole scary emotional mess. This story is my break, you know. Getting involved with the subject of a story like this would be career suicide. The ultimate conflict of interest. And I _really _need something in my life to be going right, right now. And God, please just tell me to shut up."

Lex closed his eyes, and whispered, "Shut up, please."

Chloe snapped her mouth closed with an audible click. When he opened his eyes, she gave him a tentative, chagrined smile. He tried to answer it, but honestly wasn't sure he was all that successful. Had a feeling it came out more like a grimace of pain.

What was he supposed to do now? If he confessed, he'd put her in an impossible position, smack dab back in the middle of that 'ultimate conflict of interest' she so desperately wanted to avoid. He couldn't do that to her. He'd been with her every step of the way along this road—letters written late at night from Forsythe's newspaper office; clipped articles from the Metropolis University campus paper; a copy of the acceptance letter from the Planet. He couldn't now take away her dream of a byline, simply by opening his mouth.

"This is the part where you tell me I'm jumping to unfounded conclusions."

"Wouldn't that interfere with the charming sales pitch?" he retorted, using the quip to box himself back up. He could do this. For her, he could somehow keep this going long enough to let her have her story. He wasn't even worried about the foundation anymore. While killing the story would have been the most expedient method, he could manage that fallout

Obviously relieved, she smiled, "Aaah, but I'm already onto your devious scheme, so you can save yourself the trouble. Go ahead, hit me with your best shot."

So because it was expected and safe, he started telling her about how the story could affect the Foundation. Pretended to care about something other than just keeping her a little longer.

----

Lex looked around the lobby of her apartment building with an appraising eye, as they waited for the elevator. Despite her protests, he had insisted on walking her inside, blaming it on manners instilled in him by a preparatory school education.

She knew prep school boys. Manners weren't an automatic part of the package. So here she was, once again anxious and on edge, because Lex Luthor just refused to be classified. She couldn't get a clear read on him. Most of the time she was certain he was exactly what he seemed, a very charming businessman who had seen an opportunity and taken advantage of it to the best of his ability. But there had been other moments that had felt honest, real, felt like she might not have made a complete idiot of herself when she told him she couldn't be involved with anyone, like he might have actually been disappointed.

Weirdest. Day. Ever.

Refusing to think about it anymore, because then she would start trying to read something into the fact his hand was still at the small of her back. She turned to survey the lobby, grimacing as she imagined how its aging décor must look to him.

Apparently realizing she had taken notice of his scrutiny, Lex started to say something.

Chloe spared him the trouble of searching for a compliment. "It's awful, isn't it?"

He quirked his lips in a rueful smile.

"It's okay, I know. The apartments themselves are actually pretty nice for this price range, but I guess what you get in amenities you lose in style. I think its really the worst at Christmas. Everywhere else is decked out so beautifully, and then you come in here and-" she gestured to the drab, undecorated lobby, "nothing. Not even a tree."

"Don't tell me I'm standing next to a closet Christmas fanatic?"

"Nothing closet about it. I don't know, I just-" she inhaled, "its the one time of year, you feel like magic is possible, you know?"

"I think I do." Lex murmured.

Suddenly self-conscious, Chloe stepped forward, away from his touch, and pressed the elevator button again. Because certainly if she pressed it enough times it would get the message and come faster to take her away from this extremely confusing man.

Finally, it took mercy on her and the bell dinged. Exhaling in relief, she stepped inside and turned to face Lex, who was still standing in the lobby. "So thanks for dinner and everything. As I said, I think you might have saved me from being prosecuted for murder. Though I'm sorry to tell you, your other efforts were kind of a bust. I going to write the story."

She didn't think she was telling him anything he didn't already know.

But suddenly Lex's hand shot out to hold open the door. "Give me another chance."

"I don't really think-"

"Listen, tomorrow, is the final day of the Foundation's Christmas events. We're announcing the special grants with presentations at offices of each of the major recipients. Come with me and take a look at the work we're doing. If it doesn't change anything, then I've had an opportunity to put the Foundation in the best light, and you got VIP access. Everybody wins."

"I-" She didn't know what to say. This felt crazy, and unreal, and with the way he was looking at her, more than a little bit dangerous. She opened her mouth to tell him 'no', wound up squeaking out, "Okay."

Lex smiled, "Okay."

And then before she could stop him, he stepped inside the elevator. He'd kept one hand on the door and the alarm was now going off, and she could barely hear it as he studied her face, eyes intent and searching.

Oh God, he was going to kiss her.

He brushed a lock of hair back behind her ear.

Oh God, she was going to let him.

He stepped away and out of the elevator. Held up a single silverly strand with a smile. "Tinsel."

She was still trying to come up with a reply when the elevator doors slid closed.

- + - + - + - + -


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: So while I had obviously hoped to finish this by Christmas that was totally messed up. So now we're going we an end goal of valentines day because we've still got quite a few chapters to go, and I don't want to put Collaborator completely to the side. And with that we're on to confrontations and angst and more mix ups.

- + - + - + - + -

Lois hadn't wanted the evening to end.

From the moment Alex had kissed her on the ice it had been like a fairytale, like one of those perfect romantic comedy montages that made you smile despite yourself. He'd taken her to Pietro's for a steak and then to an all-night pancake house when she'd gotten them kicked out for impersonating the maitre'd. He'd bought her a rose from a street vendor and then ruined it when he pegged her with snowball. And he'd kissed her.

Dear god had he kissed her.

Shy hesitant kisses when he'd taken her coat and held the door at Pietro's, laughing kisses when she'd been covered in snow and nearly quivering from cold, and at the end of the night one scorching, lingering kiss that left her quivering for reasons that had nothing to do with the chill in the air.

That made her forget all about the fact she'd been standing outside on the sidewalk for anyone—namely Chloe—to see.

And that was the other reason she hadn't wanted the evening to end, because when it did, when Alex had left her on the steps of her building, she'd had to face how incredibly, pathetically screwed she was.

Had to make the long gallows walk up the stairs to her apartment, listen to the snick of the key sliding in the lock like the cocking of gun, and open the door to . . .

A stay of execution.

Their apartment was dark and Chloe's keys weren't on the hook.

Lois exhaled in relief. Her cousin was still out. Probably working on that big story that had Perry White calling her into his office this morning.

Chloe could be a pit bull when she was on a trail, forgoing sleep and food as she mainlined caffeine and adrenaline. She could be out until dawn if she'd stumbled onto something really hot.

So Lois took what she believed was the best and most logical approach.

She (hid) went to bed.

She'd talk to Chloe in the morning.

Or sneak out of the apartment before she woke up.

And while her father might have been disappointed in her cowardly behavior, the General had never been on the receiving end of a full fledged Chloe Sullivan interrogation.

Discretion . . . totally the better part of valor.

Or at least survival.

-----

For the first time in all the years he had known Lex Luthor, Clark found himself thinking that the man didn't have enough space.

He'd already circumnavigated the penthouse a good fifteen times. He'd done a thorough exploration of every cabinet in the kitchen to find coffee he didn't want to drink, looked through the shelves of library to pick out a book he couldn't focus on enough to read, and now he was well on his way to wearing a hole in the antique rug that he couldn't afford to replace.

He had to tell him.

He knew he had to tell him. It was the only option. After everything they had gone through, how close they had come to losing sight of each other over their secrets, after how Lex had proven himself worthy of Clark's trust over and over, he owed Lex nothing less than the complete and absolute truth.

Lex was going to kill him.

Clark was going to let him.

Yes, he knew all the rational arguments as to why Lex had brought this on himself. He'd made every one of them in the last hour or so, some multiple times, in an effort to justify what was completely unjustifiable. But, in the end, every single one of them fell apart in the face of one thing . . .

His friend was head over heels in love with Chloe.

Lex might not have admitted it, might never admit it, but Clark didn't need him to. It was obvious from the way he talked about her, the look on his face last night when he'd been pressing for every detail. Hell if nothing else, it was obvious from this whole ridiculous impersonation scheme.

Women were generally a disposable commodity to Lex, sex a transaction, romantic entanglements an anathema. It was one of his habits that Clark hated, couldn't wrap his mind around. So the idea that this woman had so captured his friend that he'd go to these extreme lengths to keep her in any way possible, to remain entangled, was so opposite everything he knew about Lex it had to be love.

So there was no way around it, he had to come clean. As soon as Lex walked in the door, he'd tell him exactly what had happened. Explain how it had been a mistake, just one of those things that happened.

Which it totally had been.

The first time.

Groaning, Clark sunk down onto the couch and dropped his head in his hands. He could, maybe, maybe, excuse himself for the first kiss. Except he hadn't stopped there. Hadn't even tried to stop there. Kissing Chloe had been like a drug, each time more intoxicating and addictive than the last, until he wasn't thinking about anything other than his next fix.

Even now, sitting in Lex's penthouse, he couldn't stop thinking about her smile, her laugh, how she tasted, the way she'd made faces behind the back of the maitre'd until he'd barely been able to keep it together. He wanted to see her again, almost didn't care about the how.

And as soon as he told Lex what had happened, she'd be lost to him forever.

No. Clark stood up from the couch. No, he had to stop that line of thinking. He couldn't lose her, for the simple reason that he didn't have her in the first place. She wasn't his. Didn't even want to be his.

He had to stop forgetting that.

As though some higher power was trying to reinforce the issue, Lex chose that moment to walk in the door, looking . . . strangely happy. Not pleased or satisfied as he so often did when a deal was going his way, but truly, disconcertingly happy.

Clark couldn't decide if that made everything easier or harder.

"Clark, I'm glad to see you."

_You won't be in a minute._

"Lex-"

"I wanted to talk to you about, Chloe."

Clark swallowed hard, felt all his carefully rehearsed words stick in his throat. "Umm, Chloe? What about her?"

"I wanted to apologize." Setting his briefcase down beside the chair, Lex came over to stand beside him. "My behavior last night was inexcusable. You're doing me a favor, and I was practically interrogating you."

"You weren't really-"

"But I want you to know, that stops now." Lex put a hand on his shoulder, "You're my friend. If I can't trust you, who can I trust?"

He gave him one of those half smiles that had always made Clark a little uncomfortable, made him feel like Lex was just waiting for him to fill in the blank they both knew was there, and Clark found himself automatically falling back into his old pattern of returning it with silence and a half-hearted smile of his own.

Clapping him once on the shoulder, Lex said, "You know what? I'm not even going to ask about tonight. Just keep up the good work."

Dammit, from the moment he'd walked in the door, Lex had been repeatedly pulling the rug out from under him, and he couldn't regain his footing long enough to get more than a few words out. "But-"

Lex shook his head, "Show of good faith."

Turning he went to retrieve his briefcase, and started to head to the side door that led his suite of rooms. Desperate now, Clark tried again to recapture his momentum, "Lex, I don't really think-"

Once again his friend cut him off, "I understand this has been a lot to ask, Clark. Just know that I appreciate the sacrifice."

"No, you see that's the thing-"

But Lex had already closed the door behind him.

Leaving Clark to confess to an empty room, "It's not a sacrifice at all."

-----

On the other side of the door, Lex sat down on the edge of his bed, and resting his elbows on his knees, dropped his head in a posture of contrition.

It was a shitty thing he had just done.

A necessary thing. But shitty all the same.

It had been long time since he'd manipulated Clark like that, and it was little scary how easily it all came back. _Like falling off a damn bicycle._

He knew Clark had been trying to confess his indiscretion with the faux-Chloe, come clean about everything. And that was the last thing Lex wanted him to do. Because when he did, Lex would have to tell him truth.

And then it all would start to unravel.

Right now, Clark was begrudgingly going along with what, even Lex had to admit, was rapidly becoming a farce of nearly Shakespearean proportions, but if he knew that the woman he was obviously developing feelings for wasn't Chloe, all bets were off. Clark wouldn't willingly continue to lie to someone he cared about, not about something like this, and at the moment that's exactly what Lex needed him to do. Because if Clark came clean to Chloe's cousin, it would be tantamount to telling Chloe.

He wasn't about to let that happen.

She'd get to write her story if he had to manipulate the whole damn world.

It didn't stop him from feeling guilty about it.

Sighing he stood and started to take off his overcoat, stopped to run his fingertip along the spot on the lapels Chloe had crumpled when she'd yanked him behind that damn Christmas tree. Thought about her face as she'd watched Clark go, how enraged he'd felt in those moments just before the revelation of her. Thought about the fact that Clark had believed that woman was Chloe when he'd kissed her, about the fact that hadn't stopped him.

Lex decided he could live with the guilt.

-----

Chloe stood outside her cousin's bedroom door for a long time, debating with herself.

She'd been telling Lex the truth when she'd said that he'd reduced her chances of committing murder. The man had the strangest effect on her, he was so arrogant, so smug and sarcastic that even something as simple as a raised eyebrow could wind her up and send her blood pressure soaring. And yet for all that, sparring with him had been like a release valve, smoothing her out, calming her down, making the hurt, hurt a little less.

Still, standing here, outside of Lois's door, remembering the way Alex had smiled at her, had touched her and kissed her. It was hard to remember the calm.

Maybe she was being overly judgmental, unfair. After all, she'd begged and pleaded and blackmailed Lois into doing this. Did she really get to be angry now?

Yes. She decided. She did.

Not bothering to knock, she wrenched open Lois's bedroom door, flicked on the overhead light, and chucked one of the couch throw pillows at her cousin's head.

"Ow!" Lois squinted against the light, and threw up a hand for protection. "Chloe? What the-?"

"You kissed him!"

----

Lois blinked in confusion as Chloe's words, the evening, and some rather nice dreams all came together.

Oh.

Shit.

Sitting bolt upright, she put out a placating hand, like someone trying to calm an vicious animal. "I can explain."

Chloe crossed her arms and leaned in the doorway expectantly.

Damn, where was that explanation?

"Okay, I _can't_ explain."

"Lois."

"No, look it was an accident. Which I know isn't an excuse at all, but really it just sort of happened, and I didn't know what to do." It was the truth, kind of. So long as you ignored what happened later, and the fact that she had known exactly what she'd _wanted_ to do. Slowly something occurred to her. "Wait. Were you following us?"

Chloe blushed deep red and dropped her gaze, "That's not the point."

"You were. You followed us. I can't believe you didn't-" she bit off the words 'trust me' just in time, dropped her head in her hands. "Never mind," she groaned, "I am a horrible, horrible cousin."

She felt the bed shift as Chloe sat down on the edge, still couldn't bring herself to look up.

Chloe sighed, "I suppose it would be a little too much to ask that you didn't enjoy it."

Lois just flopped over to the side and hid her face in the throw pillow.

"Lois."

"He's a really good kisser," she confessed into the pillow.

Chloe fell back against the bed and groaned. "Lois!"

"Well, I'm sorry but it's true."

They were both silent for a long time, just laid there together on the bed, lost in their thoughts. Lois felt like scum, felt like her heart was breaking over and over. She liked Alex. Genuinely liked him in a way she hadn't liked a guy in a really, _really_ long time. Not simply because he was hot, or because he'd send her dad's blood pressure through the roof, but just because of who he was, genuine and sweet and a little bit square. Because he seemed completely at home at a pancake house and liked snowball fights, and didn't care that she'd ruined his coat. Because he made her feel . . .

Special.

But she wasn't special to him. And even if she was, even if she was self-delusional enough to believe even for a second, that Alex had been kissing her and not the girl he'd been writing for the past seven years, it didn't matter. Because Chloe was her cousin, her second sister, had lied to the General when she snuck out, and gotten drunk to White Snake with her when her mother left. Lois would give up everything for her.

Even guys she'd never had.

Lifting her head, she reached out a tentative hand to touch Chloe's shoulder, and whispered, "I screwed up. I'm sorry, Chlo."

Chloe turned away from her. Then with a sigh turned back around to face her, and Lois could see the start of tears in her eyes. "He wasn't supposed to like you."

Wrinkling her nose in confusion, she asked, "Oooookay. Wouldn't that have been a little counterproductive if I'm supposed to be you?"

Her cousin gave a watery laugh and dropped her head against Lois's shoulder. "Okay he was supposed to like you, just . . . not enough to want to kiss you."

"What if he wants to kiss you?"

When Chloe lifted her head to give her a blank stare, Lois felt she'd be punched in the gut, and she suddenly realized that for all Chloe had taken her good-natured ribbing about Alex's intentions in stride, she'd never actually believed Alex might want more from her, even though he so obviously did.

_Oh Chlo, we've really got to work on that self-esteem of yours._

Sitting up, she grabbed Chloe's hands and pulled her up with her. "Look, this doesn't excuse or change what I did, and you probably don't want to hear it, but you need to, so I'm gonna say it anyway." She looked her cousin in the eye. "Alex wants you."

Chloe opened her mouth to protest, but Lois cut her off with the patented Lane glare she learned from the General. "Talking now."

Her cousin snapped her mouth closed.

"As I was saying . . . Alex wants you. If those letters he writes you had anymore heat they'd spontaneously combust. Now he thinks he's going out with you. Did you really think all that repressed desire he has for you would remain repressed? He was kissing _you_ tonight. I just happened to be there instead."

God, it hurt more than she thought it would to say that out loud.

Plastering an incredibly fake smile on her face, she continued, "So see really, this is a big step in your relationship. I should be drawing a bonus. So what do you say, three leads?"

It was a big risk, one of those awful, inappropriate, over the top statements that always had the potential to blow up in her face, and for a precarious moment as Chloe's expression teetered between outrage and incredulity, she was certain this was going to be one of those times. Then to her relief, Chloe burst out in hiccups of sobbing laughter, managed to gasp out, "How about I cut you down to one lead and not kill you?"

"Yeah, so that might be fair, too."

"Lois?"

"Hmmm?"

"Don't kiss him anymore, okay?"

Lois just nodded, tried not to think about the little flutter she'd gotten as she realized she'd just been given tacit permission to see Alex again.

Worst. Cousin. Ever.

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	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: **I know people were having their doubts, but I am working on this still. This is a Chlex heavy chapter. For the Cloisers out there reading this, I promise your pairing does have good screen time coming up, its just not here yet.

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Clark awoke early the next morning with a renewed sense of purpose. And what he thought was a pretty good plan.

He was going to tell Lex about Chloe over breakfast. Come completely clean. Full disclosure. Give Lex her phone number and an ultimatum. Either he called her up and explained everything. Or she'd think he's blown her off, because no way was Clark going to call her and continue lying to her.

And then he was going to run.

Far, far away.

He was thinking Mexico. Bart had introduced him to a great little taco stand in Baja that sat on the beach and served dirt cheap cervezas.

Not necessarily an elegant plan, but he thought it would be effective all the same.

Unfortunately the plan hit a snag about three minutes after its formation, when he came into the kitchen to find Lex already gone and a note waiting for him on the counter.

_Had to go into the office before today's presentations. Try to have some fun today with Chloe. If you need anything at all, talk to Harris._

Clark carefully touched the edge of the paper like it was a bomb that might go off at any second. (Actually a bomb would be preferable, he knew what to do with those). Hesitantly, he reread the message.

_Try to have some fun today with Chloe._

If only Lex knew how little he had to try . . .

Already he was thinking about the fact there was a fresh snow fall last night. The sledding at Art Hill would be great. He could practically hear Chloe's exclamation of joy as she sped down the slope.

No.

No, he was not falling into this trap again. He was not going anywhere near Chloe today. He went near Chloe and he lost all capacity for rational thought. He had a plan, a slightly inelegant, but totally feasible, plan, and he was sticking to it.

Now all he had to do was get Harris to give him Lex's schedule.

-----

"So," Lex asked as he helped her into her coat, "impressed yet?"

His fingers just brushed the nape of her neck as he adjusted her collar. She twisted her head around to look at him, and found herself caught by his eyes. There wasn't anything lascivious or even really flirtatious in them, just an intense interest. But God if having a man like Lex Luthor interested in what she thought wasn't the most intoxicating experiences of her life.

Trying not to smile like a madwoman, she said, "Still deciding, but I'll keep you apprised of your progress."

"Do that," he retorted with that twitch of a smile that was rapidly becoming her favorite expression on him. Oh she liked the little boy smile, the way it made his face open and young, and she could feel something inside her curl in recognition when she felt those intense slate-blue eyes on her. But that flicker, when he was amused almost against his will, when she prompted it she felt like she'd won something, a little piece of him that no one else got to see.

And although she knew it was ludicrous to think she was learning anything about Lex Luthor other than exactly what he wanted, she still seemed to go out of her way to try to get that smile.

Even so far as lying through her teeth. Because the truth was, she was beyond impressed, and he knew it. From the moment she had walked out of her apartment this morning to find Lex waiting beside a chauffeured town car and her cab already sent on its merry way, this whole day had been a dizzying whirlwind. Starting with a presentation at the battered women's shelter of a grant for starting a job-skills program, to a ribbon cutting for new physical rehabilitation facilities at the Metropolis Children's hospital, Lex had made sure she had a front row seat to all of it.

And she'd taken the requisite notes, already trying to figure out how to fit them into the Dickensian shades she'd been toying with, painting Lionel as Metropolis's Mr. Scrooge desperately in need of a change of heart. It had real potential. Last night she'd spent an hour going through the Planet's photo archive in an effort to distract herself from her excruciatingly painful conversation with Lois, and had pulled old pictures of Lionel and Lillian Luthor in the early years of their marriage, happy and gleaming as they reigned over benefit after benefit.

It was perfect, very Ghost of Christmas Past.

But she knew she wasn't going to use it.

There was something too cheap and exploitive about using the image of Lillian Luthor like that for her. Two days ago she wouldn't have blinked, secretly would have been rather proud of herself for drawing the parallels. But that was before she'd really met Lex.

_And that's the problem, isn't it?_

For all her speeches to Lex about conflicts of interest and journalistic ethics, she was already losing her objectivity. And she didn't seem to know how to reclaim her distance. Lex was like the Japanese puzzle-box her uncle used to keep on his desk—smooth, seemingly impenetrable on the outside, but you knew if you made all the right moves it would suddenly open to you—and as with that puzzle box, she couldn't stop herself from trying to find the right combination with Lex because she knew, _just knew_ that whatever was inside had to be wonderful to be so carefully guarded.

"Should I be flattered or frightened by this scrutiny?"

Blushing hotly at the realization he had caught her staring, Chloe quickly refocused on knotting her scarf, and tried to cover her slip with bravado. "Oh frightened, definitely."

"Really?" Lex raised a skeptical eyebrow.

"Absolutely. I was just contemplating how to start your interview. You should be trembling."

He gave her another one of those half-smiles. "Funny, I don't remember promising you an interview."

"Scared?"

"Terrified." Putting a hand at the small of her back, he ushered her out the door of the hospital.

She laughed. "Good. You should be. I figure half an hour more, and I'll have you cracking like an egg."

"Lex Luthor revealed."

"Exactly."

"Well then," he pursed his lips thoughtfully, "I suppose there's only one thing to do." And before, she knew what was happening, Lex was turning them both away from the waiting town car and guiding her down the street.

"What are you doing?"

"Distracting you."

"I'm not that easily distracted."

"Well, I'm also now leery of being in a confined space with you. At least out here, I'll be able to run away."

She laughed. "I bet you've never run away from anything in your life."

"You'd be surprised."

That made her turn. Walking backwards, so she could look at him, she said, "You know I'm going to have to ask you about that now."

Lex seemed to consider her question, and then to her surprise he nodded. "All right, Ms. Sullivan, do your worst."

The acquiescence caught her so off-guard she stumbled, and found herself falling, thinking as she did so, _I'm going to fall on my ass in front of the most eligible bachelor in Metropolis. _And then the next thing she knew, Lex's arm was around her waist, stopping her descent.

Instinctively, she brought her hands up to his shoulders, as he righted her with a soft. "Careful."

"Thanks." Her voice was quiet, almost a whisper as she stared at where her bright red gloves rested against the black cashmere of his overcoat. She really should move them. And she was going to. As soon as she remembered how to move at all.

"Chloe?"

"Hmm?"

"You were going to make me tremble?"

"I was?" Then she recalled herself, and quickly stepped away, pointing an accusing finger at him like this was his fault. Which it totally was. Somehow. "With fear! Yes! I was."

Now she just has to think of a question to ask. Not because she didn't have any. She had hundreds. Questions to pose to the head of the Foundation, hard-hitting inquiries to make the heir to the Luthor fortune sit up and take notice; thoughtful observations to get the reinvented play-boy to come clean about his past.

But all she wanted to do was ask Lex what it had been about the birthday party being held for the eleven-year old boy in the cancer ward that made him turn-away.

What was wrong with her? She'd spent her whole life waiting for an opportunity like this. The fact Lex Luthor might be a little more complicated, a little more fun, a little more attractive than she'd been prepared for, shouldn't make a difference.

Except it kind of did.

She turned away from him and resumed walking down the street.

Lex fell in step beside her. "So?"

"So," she swallowed and worked to refocus, "All right, lets start with the obvious."

"And that would be?"

"The Foundation. I've done my research. You didn't start it. Your father did. In fact for almost half a year, I don't think you went anywhere near a single event. Now, you're the driving force behind it. What changed?"

Lex didn't miss a beat. "I've always been interested in the Foundation's work, but when my father started it I had responsibilities to our shareholders. But once my father recovered from his legal and health problems, I was able to focus on other interests."

"Like the Foundation?"

"Like the Foundation," he confirmed.

She frowned. It was a completely expected and completely unrevealing answer. She couldn't hold that against him, but that didn't mean she liked it. If she was truthful with herself, something she tried to avoid, but sometimes couldn't help, what she really wanted to do was just get to know him without thinking about what she would put on the page. Impulsively she asked, "And if I asked you off the record?"

He slanted an assessing gaze her way and she wondered if she'd just made a big mistake. Lex had been the consummate host this morning, open and pleasant, but she could still sense that there were pieces of himself he was holding back, keeping behind those ever present walls. And despite how desperately she wanted to get behind those walls, she was acutely aware that she really didn't have a right to demand entrance.

She was half a second away from backing off, when Lex put his hands in his pockets and said, "It started with a friend."

"I thought Luthors didn't have friends."

"Shh, it's my dirty little secret."

She worked to hide her smile, knew she failed. "So what did this friend do? What should Metropolis thank him for?"

"It's what she did, actually."

"Oh." Chloe forced herself to keep looking straight ahead, not to let on the unsettling sensations that one little revelation had caused.

Lex thankfully seemed unaware of her reaction, too caught up in recounting his perfect friend. "And what she did was believe I'm a better person than I am."

"So you turned your father's foundation into a multimillion dollar philanthropic enterprise?"

He gave her one of those self-deprecating smiles. "I suppose I just didn't want her to find out she was wrong and be disappointed."

His voice had gone quietly wistful, almost a little ashamed at his admission, and Chloe felt something in her throat constrict at his words, the gossamer-thin thread of longing there. She wondered if this woman knew the kind of power she held.

It made her think of Alex, of how scared she'd been of seeing the disappointment in his eyes when he realized she wasn't who he thought. "I understand. Remember my friend Alex, I told you about?"

"The one you sent your cousin? How could I forget?"

She winced in embarrassment. "Yeah, I guess hiding behind a Christmas tree is kind of memorable. But with Alex, I think, in the end, what I was more scared of than anything wasn't that he wouldn't get over the looks, or forgive me for lie, but that there'd be that moment, you know? That flash of disappointment I'd see when I told him the truth, and he realized I wasn't everything he wanted me to be."

"I have a hard time believing that."

"My cowardice? Trust me its well-hidden but its there."

Lex caught her hand and spun her back around to face him. "That you're not everything he wants."

Oh.

Chloe swallowed hard. He was looking at her the way he'd looked at her in the elevator last night. The way that made her heart speed up.

Oh this was very bad.

Desperately trying to recall exactly why it was so bad, she shifted her gaze away from Lex's and over his shoulder.

And suddenly she remembered.

Because there standing just a block behind Lex, looking in a shop window . . . was Alex.

----

Why did this keep happening?

One minute, he'd been standing on the sidewalk contemplating whether he could get away with touching Chloe's cheek on the pretense of removing an errant snowflake (granted it wasn't snowing but he wasn't thinking all that clearly). And the next thing he knew, Chloe had forcibly yanked him into the nearest shop.

A Christmas shop of all places.

Complete a seemingly endless number of Christmas trees decorated with hundreds of fragile glass ornaments. All in all, not an ideal place for a nearly frantic reporter, who looked like she was about to have a seizure.

It was not the reaction he'd been hoping for.

"Chloe?" He started to reach for her, but stopped, not entirely certain whether the gesture would calm her or just send her in a further state of turmoil. "Are you okay?"

"It's Alex!" she hissed, "He's here!"

That made Lex spin around to look over his shoulder.

"No!" Chloe pointed out the storefront window, "Out there."

Oh. Well, that was slightly better. Though it still made Lex slightly queasy. It had been so long since he and Clark had worked at cross-purposes that he'd forgotten the young man's uncanny knack to seemingly just stumble into the way to ruin everything.

Almost as though the very thought had made it so, Clark stopped in front of the shop, to gaze at the store's display window.

This time it was Lex who pulled Chloe behind a Christmas tree, pressing her as far back into the corner as he could. Only realizing once they were there, that it was perhaps not the best plan he'd ever had.

Then again Chloe was once again in his arms, clutching onto his biceps like salvation. So perhaps it was a fantastic plan.

Dipping his head down to her ear he whispered, "This is becoming a tradition."

"Is he gone?"

Lex started to maneuver so that he could glance out from between the branches without making himself visible, when the combination of the bell at the store's entrance and Chloe's muffled "Eep!" gave him his answer.

He didn't know how she found a way to burrow back even further behind the tree, but he wasn't protesting. Actually, he wasn't doing much of anything other than just reveling in the experience of having the length of Chloe's body pressed against his, her face buried tightly against his neck so that every breath was a nearly erotic tease.

At this rate he was going to develop a fetish for balsam.

"I'm sorry," she whispered against his skin.

He wasn't, but he bent his head to offer whispered reassurance, "It's okay. We can just hide until he goes."

It was in fact his preferred option.

Chloe shook her head against his shoulder. "You must think I'm so stupid."

"I don't."

But she wasn't listening. "And I am, I mean I really am. I should have just told him the truth from the start." And then to his horror she lifted her head from his shoulder, and he could see that her face had become set in that resolute, take no prisoners expression, she usually had as a reporter. "I should do it now. This is sign. I mean of all the places in Metropolis, he winds up here. This is the universe telling me I should come clean now."

No this was Clark Kent being Clark Kent. The universe had nothing to do with it. "Chloe, have you really thought about this?"

"No, but thinking is what got me into this in the first place. And really can you give me one good reason why I shouldn't?"

She looked up at him in a way that said she wasn't absolutely certain he couldn't. And she was right. But he could give her one very bad one.

So because he was desperate, because it might be his only chance, because he'd wanted to since perhaps the first time she'd stumbled out from behind a Christmas tree to accost him with family secrets, he kissed her.

And after a split-second of startled inaction, Chloe Sullivan kissed him back.

- + - + - + - + -


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N:** Yes I realize I totally missed December, but hey everyone can use a little holiday cheer in the middle of the January gloom, right? (I hope). I do actually have a little bit of an explanation for this. I got most of this chapter written and perfected at the beginning of my Christmas vacation, only to lose the flashdrive it was saved on while I was writing it at my in-laws. So it took me a little while to get back in the spirit of trying to recreate what I had. But I think I finally pieced the chapter somewhat back into its former glory, and I hope you all enjoy it and give the romantic comedy fluff a second chance.

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**Chapter 8**

Despite Lois's good-natured teasing to the contrary, Chloe wasn't a wallflower. She'd had her first kiss at thirteen, lost her virginity at sixteen. She'd had long-term relationships and one night stands, good sex and bad. In short shehad enough experience to know one thing.

She'd never been kissed like this.

Time stopped, the world faded, as though with his wealth and power, Lex could actually make them bow to his whim, and for a moment, just a moment, nothing existed outside the space between his arms. It was every romance novel cliché she'd never let herself believe in for fear of disappointment, and here it was real and actual and happening to her.

The fact it wasn't supposed to happen with this man didn't seem all that important right now.

After what could have been ten seconds or two years, Lex pulled away with a breathless laugh. "You know, I think-" he paused to brush a few pine-needles out of her hair, "I think, I really, _really_ want this tree. Guard it for me?"

It was a ridiculous statement, clearly not at all what he'd originally intended to say, and with any other man, in any other circumstance she never would have accepted such an obvious dodge.

It wasn't fair. For years, she had relied on her words, shielded herself with self-deprecating quips to deflect teasing, flip responses to rejection, had put up so many verbal barricades and armaments that it was amazing anyone had ever even tried to scale them.

And yet now, when she most needed her weapons, when this arrogant, improbable knight in his weather-inappropriate Porsche seemed determined to lay siege to her heart, she found herself defenseless, unable to manage anything more than dazed nod of acquiescence.

Then he was gone, leaving her tucked behind a Christmas tree, shaken and confused and asking herself, _What just happened?_

The answer washed over her like the cold, grey slush that inevitably followed the beauty of a fresh snowfall.

She had just been kissed by the most powerful man in Metropolis.

She had just compromised what little of her journalistic ethics remained.

She had just made out with Alex's boss . . .

She had just screwed up absolutely everything.

--------

Clark was seriously beginning to question the wisdom of his plan.

For one thing Harrison had, to his surprise, flatly refused to give him Lex's schedule, which had led to a long morning of hanging around the Foundation's 'Lend a Hand' Fair, trying to overhear anything that might clue him in to where Lex might be, while simultaneously keeping an eye out for Chloe, lest he fall into the trap of her smile.

For another, when Clark had finally caught a glimpse of Lex three blocks away from the Children's Hospital, the older man had been in the company of a rather attractive blonde.

And finally, and most importantly, when Lex brushed past him in the Christmas Shop, with the whispered command of "Outside. Now," his voice had sounded like he was already contemplating the best way to dismantle Clark's life piece by piece.

Telling Lex, he wouldn't continue to deceive Chloe because he was falling for her himself, didn't strike him as likely to deter his friend from that course of action.

Because conceding to Lex's strange demand seemed like the least he could do, and because all those glass ornaments in such a small space were starting to make him feel a little claustrophobic, he stepped back outside to wait on the sidewalk, barely suppressing the urge to indulge in a little super-powered spying as he did so.

When Clark's powers had first started to manifest, he'd asked his mother what she would do if she could see anything. In true Martha Kent fashion, her response had been simple, direct, and inevitably right:

"_I'd learn to close my eyes."_

While it had taken some time for his fourteen year-old self to come to grips with the idea, at twenty two he understood the wisdom of that piece of advice. People needed privacy, even secrets to some extent. The fact that he had a gift gave him no more right to use it for his own personal curiosity than he would accept Lex's right to plant a bug simply because he had the money to develop one.

So he tried to abide by his mother's guidance and effectively 'close his eyes,' to shut off his Kryptonian senses and live human when a person's safety wasn't at stake, and most of the time he was glad of it. Right now however, he was seriously tempted to reevaluate his position on the use of X-ray vision for personal gain.

Just when he'd almost given in to the little devil on his shoulder, who frankly sounded an awful lot like Lex anyway, the man in question appeared in the alleyway behind him. "I hesitate to ask, and yet I just can't seem to help myself. What are you doing here, Clark?"

Clark whirled around to find Lex leaning against the corner of the building, just out of the sightlines of the shop windows, hands in the pockets of his coat.

"How did you-?"

Lex tilted his head down the alleyway. "The owner was nice enough to point out the back entrance. We mere mortals do occasionally manage to get by on our natural charm."

"And a few billion dollars." Clark added with a smile, gently testing the waters of his friend's strange mood.

To his relief, Lex responded with one of his own. "Well, there is that."

Still, despite the reassuring smile and deliberately casual posture, Clark didn't miss the underlying signs of impatience and irritation. Lex was not happy about being interrupted. Though what on earth he could have been interrupting in a Christmas shop, Clark didn't know. But four years ago the attitude would have made him suspicious and accusatory. Now, well okay, now it still made him suspicious, but he was working on the accusatory part.

"So is there a reason for the cloak and dagger?" Clark winced as the words came out with more edge than he'd intended. Maybe he needed to work harder.

Lex tensed up. Not much, not long, but enough that Clark suddenly didn't feel his unfounded suspicions were so unfounded. "Does this have anything to do with the blonde I saw you with?" His anger flared hot at the thought, and before he could stop himself he hissed, "What about Chloe?"

As soon as the words were out his mouth, Clark knew he had made a mistake. He'd come here intending to confess his indiscretions not accuse Lex of untoward behavior out of the blue.

Sure enough, the other man suddenly straightened and leveled him with a look that made it clear exactly how he felt about the implication. "The blonde is a reporter. One of the more enterprising ones I've ever come across," he added the last part with a small smile, then refocused his gaze on Clark, "She's doing a piece on my involvement with the LuthorCorp Foundation and by extension has done quite a bit of digging into my life story. I was making an effort to keep her from realizing I know you, but by all means Clark if you'd like a formal introduction-"

He let the statement hang, and Clark looked away in embarrassment. For all their disagreements and trust issues, once Lex had learned Clark's secret he'd proven himself to be both surprisingly loyal and uniquely gifted at protecting said secret. Lex anticipated darker motives with an almost prescient instinct, all the while deflecting suspicions with the deft hand of a master illusionist. And above all else, Lex had worked hard to keep their friendship as separate as possible from his more public face, knowing that even something as simple as being identified as a Luthor confidant could draw uncomfortable levels of media scrutiny.

Now here Lex was, doing nothing more than trying to protect him to the best of his ability, and Clark had practically accused him of cheating on Chloe when in actuality the only reason Chloe had any reason to feel cheated on in the first place was because Clark had kissed her. Something he still hadn't told Lex about.

Somehow this was feeling less and less like the time to mention that particular detail.

"I'm sorry. I just-"

Lex cut him off with a shake of his head. "No need to apologize. Now, can what you needed to say wait until tonight? Because sooner or later, she's going to get suspicious, and I'm placing my bet on sooner." He smiled, again, "Tenacious would be the polite description."

Clark managed a weak smile of his own as he once again felt his best intentions slip through his fingers. "Yeah. Yeah, tonight would be fine."

He started to turn away, but Lex called after him, "Clark?" He looked back to find Lex fixing him with an unexpectedly intent gaze. "I'd do anything to make Chloe happy. I want you to know that."

Clark swallowed and worked to find his voice. "I know, Lex."

And he did. After all, that was what had gotten them into this mess in the first place.

----

He hadn't lied to Clark.

Misdirected? Yes. Omitted critical facts? Absolutely. Used every single shred of manipulative instincts to both scare and guilt Clark into leaving the premises as quickly as possible? You bet your life.

But he hadn't lied.

The razor thin distinction didn't provide him much comfort.

He tried to balance it with the reassurance that in just a few moments he would have everything straightened out, that once he had had a chance to confess his identity to Chloe himself, he'd be able to relieve Clark's heartache with the revelation that the girl his friend was developing feelings for was actually an extremely available Lois Lane. And if Lex had to facilitate Clark's romantic pursuit of this woman up to and including the purchase of a damned fairytale castle, well that was a small price to pay.

Because as he reentered the shop all thoughts of Clark Kent and Lois Lane and his moral failings as a friend faded away in the face of one astonishing, indescribably wonderful truth . . .

Chloe had kissed him.

Chloe Sullivan had kissed him, Lex Luthor. And it had been amazing.

Lex had, on some level, always prided himself on his ability with the opposite sex. The day he discovered that with the right attitude he could turn 'freak' and 'weird' into 'striking' and 'desirable', had been a revelation, the sudden presentation of a feast to a starving man and he had gorged himself until he was sick. He'd dated socialites with all the polish and pedigree of royalty, slept with models who could rival the Venus de Milo for physical perfection. Worked his way thought the banquet of available female companionship, until he thought he'd sampled the full range of experiences, from the shimmering trappings of commercial romance to the tawdry degradation of a back-alley fuck.

But he'd been wrong.

Because trapped behind a Christmas tree, kissing a woman he'd known all his adult life and just met yesterday, Lex Luthor experienced something new.

Joy.

Pure and uncut and utterly addictive.

Just thinking about Chloe, about the glazed, breathless way he'd left her made him smile, made him feel like the giddy school boy he'd once impersonated for the sake of a fifteen year-old girl, never knowing he was the one being given a gift.

As much as he hated to admit it, Clark had been right, after experiencing the reality of Chloe he couldn't go back to their paper relationship. He wanted more. Wanted everything.

And against all odds, for once in his life, everything seemed to be within his grasp.

Except it wasn't.

Because Chloe wasn't there.

She was walking out of the shop.

She was walking away from him.

Heedless of how it looked or whether Clark had left, or anything other than stopping her, Lex tore out of the shop after her.

"Chloe!"

She stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, but didn't turn. "Leave me alone, Lex."

"No," he grabbed her shoulders and spun her around, only to let go in shock when he realized she was crying. "Chloe, what is it? What's wrong?"

Swiping angrily at her tears, like he'd offended her by insisting on seeing them, she muttered acerbically, "Like you don't know."

Lex felt his heart sink at the words. God, she knew. She must have heard him talking to Clark and put it all together, and now she wasn't going to forgive him. "Please, I can explain."

"There's nothing to explain. This is my fault," she shook her head as she spoke sadly, almost to herself, "I knew what you were doing, and I thought I could handle it," she laughed despondently, "God, I actually thought I could handle Lex Luthor. How stupid could I be?"

As she spoke, he realized this had nothing to do Clark or Alex or anything other than the two of them. Hope flared hot and bright within him and he reached out clasp her face in reassurance. "You're not stupid."

For moment, as she looked at him, he thought he saw his own hope reflected back, luminous and vulnerable, and he moved to kiss her again, to show her what he couldn't figure out how to make clear with words.

She jerked away as if stung. "Please, don't."

Lex stood there in shock, his hands closing around the air where she'd been.

As if seeing his confusion, or maybe just rationalizing her own reaction, she started talking again, words pouring out of her in a rapid-fire staccato. "I told you, I _told _you that I couldn't get involved with the subject of a story."

"Chloe-"

"And what do you do? You kiss me!" She threw up her hands in consternation, like he was totally irrational.

"And you kissed me back." He pointed out. Someone had to keep the record straight.

She glared at him, "Yes, let's focus on that completely irrelevant detail. I'm going to have to stand in the middle of Perry White's office and admit I've lost all ability to claim journalistic objectivity. And if I somehow manage to keep my job, I'll probably be reduced to writing obituaries for the foreseeable future, but its okay, because Lex Luthor's status as irresistible to all members of the female species remains intact."

"That wasn't-"

She cut him off. "Well congratulations, you got what you wanted. You seduced the reporter and killed the story. Who cares if in the process you ruined . . . absolutely everything."

He flinched at the accusation, at the idea she could really still think that was what this was about. And yet her despair and self-loathing was so absolute, so all-encompassing, he couldn't help but hate himself a little on her behalf. Had he ever wanted anything, ever pursued anything with the same power that Chloe had this one dream? And in one selfish moment, he'd taken that away from her.

Chloe sighed, suddenly deflated of all her anger, "I'm sorry. I didn't- I don't think straight around you." she shook her head, "And I need to think. So just- just leave me alone, Lex. Please."

Then before he could stop her, before he could do anything other than take a half step towards her and reach for empty air, she'd turned and fled.

And in the emptiness she left behind, Lex found he had the answer to his earlier question.

However badly Chloe wanted to be a reporter, however desperately she dreamed of having a byline for the Daily Planet . . .

Lex wanted Chloe more.


End file.
